Uncivil War
by Unoriginality
Summary: After Palestine goes bad, Steve and Bucky are benched, taking with them the girls and Bruce. Exiled to what once was a school and now serves as an Avengers base off-radar, it's not long before Bucky and Steve see that Hydra is still in their midst. And not just Hydra; someone is playing with the lights... (A BTWWL fic)
1. That'll Never Be Home

They'd been banished like lepers.

Bucky knew why, it was his own assessment of how Hydra might've affected Steve, how he _knew_ Hydra had affected the Soldier and Bucky's control over him that got them there. Hydra had dug its claws in deep with Steve, haunted him from the second that drug was in him, and his sketches of his nightmares proved it. And Bucky knew where they were in his own dreams.

But knowing why didn't mean he had to _like_ it.

The school Tony exiled them to looked like it was a mansion that had been converted into a school and was now a secret headquarters.

Bucky studied the grounds map that Junior had produced, a basic picture of the building and the grounds from up top of it. The central part looked like a hub, with two wings shooting off its rear areas like bug legs, little halls that popped up into three story buildings in their own rights, and another set of wings that curled around the front entrance like scorpion claws.

The hub itself looked to be three stories high, a pointed roof with windows surrounding its sides. It made him think of a watch tower. Below that were two more areas that 'bubbled' off between the central part and the back bug legs wings. There was a square room with windows for a ceiling in front of the tower. The back of the building looked to be another open room, ceilinged entirely in glass and rolling out over a large room of undetermined use.

In the far back was a flat and rectangular building with no windows, in sharp contrast to the main building, which piqued Bucky's curiosity. After things were as put away as possible, he would go check that out.

To the east of the building was another rectangular building, small, with windows. He'd investigate that one, too.

There were six paths leading away from the main building. One to the back building, one to the east building, one disappearing into a small forest to the west, and then three that branched off at angles out front. He had no idea where any of those went.

Maria hadn't been flying fast enough, nor was she coming to a stop too quickly for him to need to be seated and buckled in, so he remained at the computer station, going over the map over and over again. He'd wait until Maria had them on the ground to start asking Junior questions. And he'd have to be fast about them, they had fresh food on board that needed into a fridge and soon.

Then they had their own suitcases, packed for a week long stay, though it would likely be only a few days they'd have to live out of those before the rest of their belongings caught up to them.

As the quinjet's engines powered down, the others joined him at the station. He gave them all a mental stink eye for crowding him. If it wasn't Steve, it was Maria, and now it was both them, plus Sharon and Bruce that were hanging over his shoulder.

"So what've we got?" Steve asked, getting down close over Bucky's shoulder.

Stop that. "A big building," he retorted. "Junior, how much knowledge of this place were you programmed with?"

"Relatively little," she replied. "The back two wings are the dorms, boys in the west, girls in the east. The path to the west leads to where the quinjet will be hiding. The path to the west of the front courtyard leads to the building that houses the arc reactor. It was a stable house before, but it's been repurposed. The path straight ahead of the building leads to the road, and the path off to the east of the entrance goes to the garages, where there is a BMW X5 waiting."

"That's a nice piece of machinery," Sharon said.

"You won't stand out," Junior assured her. "This is one of the richest counties in New York."

"What're those other two buildings?" Bucky asked.

"The one to the east houses equipment to care for the grounds, and has room for a groundskeeper to live comfortably," she replied. "The building out back is not programmed into my memory, so I'm not sure."

Bucky blew out a huff of frustration. "Naturally. What else do you know about the building itself, besides the dorms?"

"Nothing," was Junior's reply.

"Nothing?" Steve looked down at Bucky. "Is Tony normally that bad at leaving out information?"

Bucky frowned. "More like he's that good at keeping secrets when he wants to be. After we get the food put away and pick our rooms, I'll come back out and call him. Think you can wait out here long enough, Junior?"

"I shouldn't," she said. "But you know where I'll be to call him after you've had a chance to compile a list of other things the building lacks. Doctor Banner might have medical supplies he'd like to have brought in, for example."

"Probably," Bruce said. "Including medicines I forgot."

Bucky lifted his head to look directly up at Bruce. "You? You forgot medicines?"

Bruce gave him a weak shrug. "I was up later than the rest of you. Once I packed my own things, Tony had me help close up the Avengers lab. I didn't get time or rest enough to remember to check the medlab and everyone's charts." Then he gave Bucky a stern doctor look. "You remembered your Ativan, right?"

Bucky sighed. He wasn't fond of the others knowing he was officially on an anti-anxiety medicine, but there it was, out in the open. "Yes, Doctor Banner, and yes, Doctor Banner, I remembered my Ritalin-C, and _yes,_ Doctor Banner, I remembered Steve's bottle of that stuff too. Will that be all, Doctor Banner?"

Steve gave him a light whack upside the head ."Be nice to your doctor."

Bucky growled at him, but didn't say anything. "Okay, so no idea where the kitchen is, huh?"

"As useful as that knowledge would've been, no," Junior admitted. "Looking at the map, however, I'd guess it's towards the back. There doesn't seem to be anywhere in specific in the middle it could be, and if the back wings are dorms, I'd guess the front wings to be the classrooms."

"Smart UI," Bucky said, patting the console. "We'll head towards the back first, then. Stick around until we're all unloaded. We'll make a laundry list to send back to Tony."

"I already have JARVIS standing by," Junior replied, her voice practically purring from the compliment.

Tony, you make weird programs.

The others took that as their orders to start gathering grocery bags, things packed on Junior along with their suitcases only an hour or so before. It didn't take a quinjet long to go from the Tower to upstate New York, and much of that food had been brought up from the kitchen used for formal functions in the Tower while they were loading up their things, so it was as fresh as possible. The few frozen things had been put into Bruce's blood cooler, and he was in charge of those.

Arms full of bags with yet more to come back for, Bucky led the group inside, past an atrium with windows on the roof- good lord, with all the windows, this place should be impossible to keep warm or cool, and speaking of temperature, it was stiflingly hot in there. That was draining on Bucky's already exhausted nerves.

But there was food to put away, and suitcases to unpack and a building (two, actually) to explore and a list of supplies they might be short on. All within the next day or so, although most of that would be that day. It was still relatively early in the morning, only about nine thirty or so, which left them plenty of time to explore once their chores were done.

"Hey, Bucky," Steve said from just off of Bucky's left flank. "Looks like this place comes with a pet for you."

Bucky had to pause mid-step, disrupting the fluid formation of the group, to see what Steve was talking about. Taking a nap on a couch near where the front west wing slid off, was a grey kitten. "Great, another mouth to feed."

"Make that two," Sharon said from further back, just behind Steve.

By that time, they'd all stopped and started looking around, and there were at least two other cats, besides the ones pointed out by Steve and Sharon.

"Did a cat colony move in?" Bruce asked.

"No idea," Bucky said, starting to walk again, but slower, looking for signs of more cats. He wasn't disappointed- they seemed to be everywhere. "Let's get food put away before they start raiding it. When we find the damn kitchen, I'll start unloading, you guys go get what's left. And try to take a tally of how many furballs there are around here."

"I've already counted six," Maria said, and Bucky glanced in her direction, off to his right flank, to notice stairs heading up to what he guessed was the eastern windowed room on the second floor. There were two more there, one headed up, the other sitting on the bottom stair with a zen look on its face. It had no fucks to give about the invasion of five humans.

"Weird," Sharon said. "How long have they been here? My allergies aren't reacting to them. This many cats, even if they just got here, I should be sneezing by now."

Bucky almost stopped mid-step again. That _was_ strange. "We'll have Bruce take a look at you later," he said.

"I'll give her an exam," Bruce said. "But it could be that she's simply outgrown the allergies. That happens sometimes."

Junior had been right about the kitchen, sorta. The back area with the curved window ceiling was a dining area, once a cafeteria but any bench tables that had been there were replaced with three proper dining tables with comfortable looking chairs. The kitchen was off to the west of the room, and while a quick inspection of it showed it certainly wasn't as good as the Tower's kitchen, it was sizable, and Bucky declared it 'good enough.'

Bags were set down and Bucky went to work putting things away before it went bad or a cat got into it.

Speaking of cats, in strolled a calico that looked a pound too heavy for her frame while Bucky was digging around the bottom of a bag that he'd almost had unloaded. He eyed her. "Don't think any of this is yours, sweetheart," he said, at once charmed by the way she sauntered about and still harboring irritation that he was there at all to be charmed by her.

She curled around his legs, then stepped back, hopped up on a counter, and sat down like a statue of Bastet, her tail curled around her.

He paused in unpacking, the fridge door standing open. "Just remember, you can watch, but don't touch anything."

She behaved herself, seeming happy to watch and not interfere as he put away food enough for a week with three normal humans and two super soldiers with high metabolisms.

"I see you've already made friends," Maria said upon reentering the kitchen, another two heavy paper bags in hand.

"She's behaving," Bucky said, digging into the last bag from the first trip. "How much more's left?"

Sharon hefted one of her bags up onto the serving counter, opposite from where the calico was sitting. "This is the last of it. Steve grabbed your suitcases and is heading to the boys dorm to check out the room situations."

Bruce set down one last bag. "We're hoping that there's a set of teacher dorms on one of those floors, maybe something bigger than a student's dorm."

"Preferably with private bathrooms," Maria said. "Sharing shower space between the genders might be uncomfortable for some."

He flashed her a look, wanting so badly to make a joke at her, but they were all too tired for it, with a long day ahead of them. There'd be days of utter boredom to follow, plenty of time for him to flirt mercilessly with her, but for now, he decided to just agree with her. "Having a place to set out your toiletries the way you like it isn't a bad thing either," he said.

He straightened from digging into one of the new bags. "Okay everyone, go get your stuff, make sure you have your comms. Did Ste- nevermind, he doesn't need to grab one." Bucky frowned, and turned on his comm. "Steve?" No reply. Fear bubbled at the back of his mind. "Steve?" Oh god please answer, don't do this to me, Rogers. "Steve?"

Bucky was forced to take a deep breath to kill the rising panic. This was not like Palestine. Hydra scientists wouldn't have gotten ahold of him here. "And he doesn't have his turned on. If any of you see him on your way past, tell him to turn it on. I need to be kept up to date while I unload the food and start investigating the building."

"You're not going to come check out the dorms first?" Sharon asked.

Bucky shook his head. "I will after I've made a go around the place. I trust Steve to pick a room for me to toss my suitcase into." He didn't mention the fact that unless bedding didn't allow it, he planned on sharing a room with Steve. He had a feeling he didn't have to.

"We'll help," Bruce said. "We can just pick rooms and drop our suitcases. I have to find a place to set up as a medical center for us." He glanced over his shoulder. "I thought I saw a room marked 'doctor's office' on the way by, but I didn't get to investigate."

"I'll leave that room for you then," Bucky said. Then he waved them all away. "Go on, go get your stuff. This room's handled."

They didn't question that order that wasn't phrased like an order. In some weird way, this whole thing was still part of the mission to Palestine, the results and fallout of it, and Bucky remained the one in charge, a position he no longer wanted to be in.

But the others seemed to want to continue to listen to him, so he may as well accept it.

Bucky continued to put food away, pausing once to pet the calico, who'd been perfectly behaved that whole time. "Hey, little Cali," he said, automatically naming her in his mind. "What's the story with you and your friends?"

She did little in answer but to purr and press up into his hand.

"Thought so," he said, then finished off the last bag.

"We're in, Bucky," Maria's voice said. "That's the last of our things out of the quinjet, Junior's flying off to her landing area now."

"Go find out what Steve's found," Bucky replied, folding up all the bags to store for later use. "I'm almost done."

Just as he was putting the last of the food away and was starting to investigate the 'non-perishables' for expired food, he heard Maria tell Steve to turn on his comm. From Maria's side of the conversation, it sounded like Steve didn't remember the chip, which meant he probably didn't know how to use it.

Tuna Helper. Really, Tony? Expired, too. The cupboards were a mess. As soon as they could, they'd have to go into town to get some staples that weren't in the fridge. A look through the other cupboards showed a dismaying lack of spices.

Bruce stepped in with Steve, explaining how the chips worked and that Bucky already had his own and was waiting for a response. A bit more fussing on Bruce's end and then Steve's voice came loud and clear into the comm. "Bucky?"

"I'm here, Steve," Bucky said, feeling more relief than he'd let on. "Tony doesn't know what a spice is, there's hardly anything in here. Any idea how we can get to a grocery store so I can buy shit for this place without us being recognized?"

"Already taken care of," Sharon said. "After we get an idea of the place and I can get unpacked, we'll get on that. It'll be a couple days before I can actually go, though."

Bucky paused, arm outstretched to throw away a can of pre-cooked chicken. "That's vague."

"You'll see," Sharon said. "So what's upstairs in the dorms, Steve?"

"The first floor looks like it's for the younger crowd. The second floor might've been the high school-aged kids. Top floor I think must be the teacher's floor. There's four bigger dorms. Queen beds, private bathrooms. Closets are a bit small, and so are the dressers, but if the girls' side is the same, we can bring over furniture from there."

"Should we check out the girls' dorms before we settle, Bucky?" Maria asked.

Bucky grit his teeth. He didn't want to be the one making the decisions anymore. But Steve was out of commission temporarily and none of the others were leaders. "No, we'll stick with the boys' dorms. No eastern sun to wake us and the trees will minimize heat and the sunset."

"Works for me," Steve said. "I left our bags in the hall on the first floor. We'll go pick rooms and put our suitcases down. I got yours."

"Thank you." Bucky finished emptying the cupboards of almost everything that was supposedly non-perishable and grabbed the trash bag, hauling it to the kitchen's entrance. "Hey, Junior, where does trash go?"

"There's a dumpster out by the street entrance. Mister Stark bought out the trash company in town and told them there was regular maintenance being done to the place, so trash would be common for awhile. They come by every Monday."

It was Thursday, so they still had time to throw out as much as they needed before it was all picked up. Good.

"Thanks, Junior," Bucky said, deciding to check out the place before taking the bag out. "Bruce, once you're done unpacking or dropping your suitcase or whatever, mind checking out that doctor's office? Everyone else, spread out, start investigating areas. Report in what you find."

Still with the orders. And this time it was his own damn fault. Sigh.

He looked at the calico. "Care to join me outside, Cali?"

"You've already named her?" Sharon asked in disbelief.

Bucky frowned, heading out of the kitchen. Cali jumped down off the counter and followed him. "She's a calico, what else am I supposed to call her? I can't call her 'cat' or 'kitty', there's a million other cats around here."

He unbolted the dining room door and headed out, and Cali actually followed him out into the hot summer sun. At least it wasn't stifling like it inside.

Speaking of.

"Hey, someone find the thermostat and turn on the AC in there," he said.

"Already looking," Sharon said. "It's like an oven in here."

"Astute observation," Bruce said without a trace of sarcasm. "I'm heading to the medical office now to start making a list of things I need. Sharon, do you have your Percocet?"

"I'm set for now," she said. "I'll need more next month."

"I'll put that on the list. I need to be able to get everyone's medicines on a regular basis."

Bucky glanced down at Cali, who was trotting right along side him as if she'd known him her whole life. Weird.

He wanted to ask what Sharon was on Percocet for, but he decided not to. That was her business between her and Bruce, despite it being announced over their comms. He might ask her in private later if his curiosity was still strong.

The building out back, he found, was locked up tight and the only way to get in was through an electronic lock. He played around with the keypad until he found the right combo and it popped open a handprint scanner.

Goddamnit.

He closed the scanner, letting loose a few pleasant comments.

"Bucky found something he didn't like," Steve commented in his ear. "What'd you find out there?"

"The place is locked up with an electronic lock," he said, leaving the building for now to go around to the grounds maintenance building. "Code and handprint scanner. For the _left_ hand."

"We'll add that to the list of things for Tony to help us with," Maria said. "Okay, I'm ready to go explore. Steve, want to take the two front wings with me?"

"Sounds good," Steve said. "Bucky, you're still checking around outside?"

"Yeah," Bucky said. "There's the building with the grounds keeping stuff still. I wanna see how it locks and what kind of equipment we have to work with for taking care of this place. After that, I'll come in."

Sharon piped in. "I'll take the second floor of the central part of the building," she said. "There's at least three rooms up there, and that third floor watch tower."

"I might join you for that, depending on what kind of lock I find out here," Bucky said. He glanced down at Cali. "Me and the cat both. She's still following me."

"She likes you," Steve said. "Most cats do."

"I think my mother dunked me in cat pheromones when I was a baby," Bucky said. "They attach themselves to me like I'm the greatest thing ever."

"Says the man who adopts every one he comes across," Steve said.

"Not every one," Bucky protested. "I have owned _one_ cat. I took care of neighborhood strays as a kid, but the only cat I ever owned personally was Kitty."

Maria answered that, her voice at once confused and amused. "You had a cat named _Kitty?"_

"My niece named him for me."

"How old was she?"

"Five, I think. Maybe four. I don't remember, I adopted that cat when I got back from college. But every cat I had before were neighborhood strays, so don't anyone act like I adopt animals at random. I think this one just adopted me." He looked down at Cali who was trotting along beside him like she was a dog that didn't need a leash. "And you are of no help, cat," he said. "Speaking of cats, though, what's the tally so far?"

There were a few various reports about how many were seen where, some were confirmed to be the same cat that moved to different rooms, and all together they came up with twenty, counting Cali.

"The weird thing is," Sharon said, "is that there's twenty cats, no smells of cats, no sign of what they eat, they're all inside and the place was locked up, and my allergies _still_ aren't going off."

"I'll take a look at you," Bruce assured her.

"Thank you," Sharon said. "But I noticed something stranger than my allergies not bothering me. Has anyone smelled any sign of cat urine or feces? Or any smell of cats in general?"

Bucky paused, glancing back at the school. "I didn't," he said. The others indicated the same. "Weird." Then he shrugged, an action that added nothing to a conversation held over a computer communication system. "Well, something to worry for later. It's weird, but whatever."

Having made his decision on the matter and dismissed it from further thought, Bucky stopped at the door to the grounds maintenance building. It had windows on either side, and a regular lock on the door. He glanced in the windows. "So we get to decide who gets what chores out here," he said. "I see two lawnmowers, a riding model and a push model, and a riding model snowblower and a few snow shovels."

"If there's multiple tools for the snow, we'll all pitch in on that," Maria said, taking a decision out of his hands and thank god. "The mowing we'll have to take rotations on. I imagine that push mower is for the smaller areas the riding one can't get into. Are there any signs of gardening tools? Or any signs of gardens out there?"

Bucky stepped back and looked around. "I don't see any flower beds, not even hedges. Pretty plain yard for a place like this."

"Fewer bees," Sharon said. "If a student were stung and had an allergic reaction, the school would be paying out the nose in medical fees and potentially legal fees. Plain grass doesn't get a lot of attention from a lot of bugs in general."

"Oh believe me, there are still bugs out here," Bucky complained, heading back for the back door of the main building.

"I'm sure there are," Sharon said. "Report, the eastern second floor room seems to be a lounge of some sort. I don't know if it was a student lounge or something else before, but it's set up a lot like the penthouse now."

"Good, we're not stuck making the dining room the center of the universe," Bucky said. "What about the room across from that?"

"Locked," Sharon said. "Same with the door to the watch tower. The front room on this floor looks like Tony set it up as a work room."

"I'll probably take over it," Bucky said. "Maria, Steve, what's up in those wings?"

"East wing is classrooms both levels," Steve said.

"Same with the west," Maria added. "Just classrooms. Have we checked the basement yet?"

Bucky pulled open the back door, pausing to let Cali in. "I was just heading there," he said. The air wasn't cool, but it was cooler than it had been. The vents hummed with the AC running. Hallelujah. "Bruce, I can only assume from your silence that the doctor's office is what it was advertised to be."

"It is," Bruce said, sounding distracted ."I'm taking inventory of what it has and making a list of what I want that it doesn't."

"Fascinating, Doctor," Bucky said. He got to that central hub about the time Sharon was coming down the stairs. He looked at her. "So those two doors were locked, huh? With keys or what?"

"The upstairs looks like the kind of lock you probably saw on that building out back," she said. Interesting. "Not sure what's up there, but the other one was a keypad lock. I don't have the equipment I had in SHIELD to crack that."

"Make a list," Bucky said. "Watch tower lock, other random room lock, outside building lock. We need ways into all of those buildings and Tony can sit and spin if he thinks we don't. I don't want to have inaccessible rooms where I'm living."

"Neither do I," Sharon said. "Makes the bodyguard in me on edge."

"I think it'd put any Avenger on edge," Bucky said, watching towards the front of the building when he heard footsteps.

Steve was the first to emerge into the atrium and join them. "Absolutely nothing of interest in those classrooms," he said. He tapped the chip behind his ear. "And this is weird. You're already used to it?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not really, I only remember it's there because I'm not wearing an ear piece when I otherwise would be."

"It's convenient," Steve said, dropping his hand. He looked over as Maria joined them. "Same as over there? Lotta boring?"

She nodded. "Nothing over there but empty classrooms."

"Thirteen grades," Sharon reminded them. "Lotta kids to provide classrooms for." She looked around. "I see one more door to check out."

"I got it," Bucky said. "Everyone, go unpack. Steve, grab my tablet and pick out something for me to cook. Something with few spices, there's not much to speak of in the cupboards in there. And someone take out the trash for me, I got caught up in investigating the place."

"So we're meeting you in the dining room?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. I'm just checking out this room or whatever. And Bruce?"

Bruce barely acknowledged him, but he managed a "hm?"

"Go unpack. We have all day to get to those lists, I want us settled to make sure we're hitting everything before we start worrying about what we're missing."

"Hm? Okay." He sighed. "I think I heard mention of food, and that would probably be better before making those lists as well."

"Kinda my thought," Bucky said, stepping over to the door. Cali walked next to him, having never left his side. He glanced down at her. "You know, at some point, you're gonna have to stop following me. Why don't you go check out the room Steve is sticking me in for me?" She stubbornly sat down next to him, watching him and waiting for him to open the door." He sighed. "Fine." He pointed at the others sternly. "No laughing. Go unpack."

His order of no laughing was mostly ignored, but at least they left to go unpack (and hopefully take out that trash for him). He waited until he saw Bruce leave the doctor's office further down the hall to join them, then turned to the door and yanked it open.

It led downstairs, probably to where the furnace and the hot water heater were all stored. Good, he could check what filter they needed for later. The fusebox was probably also down there, and it'd be a good thing to check out.

The place wasn't exactly a labyrinth, but it had a couple halls. One side revealed much nicer rooms painted in the same sunshine yellow paint on the hallway walls. They were empty, but there were outlets and wall sconce lights like what were in the dining room that made him suspect that while groundskeepers slept in that building outside, the maintenance people lived down there.

Down the central area was a small hallway leading to an obvious laundry facility, with a number of washers and dryers. Carrying laundry that far to wash it would be a pain in the ass, but at least they wouldn't have to go out to a laundromat to do it.

The other hallway branch led to, as Bucky expected, the inner workings of the building, the hot water heater, which took up a room by itself- good, they'd never go without hot water -and the furnace. He checked the filter on it and committed its type and size to memory.

Overhead on that side of the basement and down to the laundry area were pipes and cables, exposed for easy repairs, rather than covered for some semblance of comfort on the residential side.

The last room on the right side of the wall was the circuit breaker room, with the fuse boxes. It had that same yellow paint that the rest of the basement had, and Bucky was already sick of looking at it. Having a lighter color in the basement to make it seem brighter under the lights made sense, but that shade of yellow was annoying.

He took a walk around the room, checking the fuse boxes. There was one on each wall except the one shared with the hallway. The one that shared a wall with the furnace room had an odd distortion in the paint next to it.

Worried that it was shorting out or otherwise doing something to melt the paint, Bucky walked over and poked at the paint. It looked like it'd just gotten overheated. Not a good thing in a room with fuse boxes, but a peek past one of the peeling parts showed that there was a darker color under it.

Must've just been another paint under there that the yellow paint wasn't sticking to. Maybe some graffiti they'd tried to paint over.

Satisfied that the building wasn't going to go without hot water or lack basic repair tools, Bucky turned off the light and headed back upstairs.


	2. It's Dark Inside

Bucky felt exhausted. Cooking hadn't really done anything to change that; in fact, it had made him feel even more tired. What he needed was to unpack and take a damn nap. But putting food in him before doing so would be good, or he'd wake up with a headache from not eating. He'd rather avoid that.

"So what all else do we have to do today before we can rest?" Steve asked.

Bruce took a sip of his coffee that he'd been living in since everyone had gathered in the dining room to wait for Bucky to cook their breakfast. "Everything," he said, sounding a bit grouchy.

They all felt cranky. Which meant they all needed naps. Good. He could convince them all it'd be a good idea.

Actually, he'd do that right now.

"I think we'd all be better if we get a little extra sleep," he said, poking at his food. "I declare post breakfast naptime."

"Well, I have to get a couple things done," Sharon said. "But it'd be better if they waited until after we've napped. Unless I want brown hair dye on my pillow."

That drew four stares in her direction. "You're planning on dying your hair?" Maria asked.

Shaorn nodded. "I'm the least known Avenger, but I'm former SHIELD and former CIA, even I shouldn't go to town without looking different. I have a picture of a hair style I want, so I'll have to have Steve cut my hair."

Steve, who had gone back to his food, looked up with his fork half hanging out of his mouth and a confused look on his face. He swallowed before talking. "How'd I become a part of this?"

"You cut Bucky's hair," Sharon pointed out.

Steve looked at Bucky. "Yeah, but he's a simple trim." He looked at Sharon on his other side. "It sounds like you want a style."

"I'll handle styling it," Sharon said. "I just need the basic cut. I don't have anyone else that can do that."

Steve looked helplessly at the others and only received confirmation that none of them could do it. He looked at Sharon. "If I mess this up, don't hold it against me."

She set her fork down to pat his hand. "Don't worry, dear, I'm nice. Just get it close, I can style it to hide any problems." She looked past him at Bucky. "And while you're at it, it looks like your partner could stand a trim."

That gave Bucky his own moment of wondering what brought him to the conversation. "What?" He grabbed a lock of hair and pulled it out for examination. "Okay, yeah, you have a point." Then he pointed his fork at her, halfway in front of Steve. "You first though. Your little disguise gets you into town to get me some damn spices." He went back to poking his scrambled eggs. "I normally can make these better than this."

"Don't worry about it, Bucky," Maria said. "They taste fine. We'll deal until Sharon can get into town. Making good food without proper ingredients is a sign of a good cook."

"I will take that compliment."

"I knew you would."

Steve looked up at the ceiling. "Thank God there's someone else who knows how to handle him."

Bucky gave him a dirty look, then glanced around at the cats gathered around their table and up on nearby tables, and winding around under their table. "So who wants to share their breakfast with all these furballs?"

"I'll share some sausage," Sharon said. "It's good, and normally I can eat this, but the stress of the last couple weeks has my stomach acting up, so it's not liking the spice much."

"I'll keep that in mind," Bucky said, looking back down at his feet. Cali was sitting there, watching him with the intensity of a cat begging. But she was keeping her paws to herself and waiting patiently. "Well, get ready to share, I'm giving Cali a piece and that's going to set off an avalanche."

Sharon finished the last bite of her eggs and started cutting her sausage into tiny pieces for the cats. "Ready and waiting, sir."

Bucky bit back a sigh and an angry rant. He was not the leader, stop calling him that. But he knew that she wasn't being serious, so he let it go. He grabbed a piece of sausage and held it out to Cali, who sniffed it and then licked it. But she waited for him to set it down before she devoured it, her tail quivering in delight.

Then came the crowd.

Sharon immediately set her plate down on the floor and got up out of the way, hiding behind Steve as the hoard of cats descended on the plate. "I didn't realize how fast they could eat."

Maria scooted her chair closer to Bruce, but kept on finishing up her plate. "Your allergies have isolated you from cats, haven't they?"

Sharon nodded. "The penthouse can be an issue some days if Junior's spent a lot of time up there. I've never been able to stay this close to cats to watch them eat."

Bruce frowned. "I'll take a look at you. If Junior is still a problem, then you might not've outgrown that allergy. That's very odd." He looked at Bucky. "But I'm going to yield to you on when we should do what."

Sigh!

"Take a look at her when we're done here," Bucky said, changing his plans in his mind as he spoke. "Steve told me that we need to steal a dresser from the girls' dorm since we're stuck sharing a room and one dresser's not going to be enough. So we can do that while you look at Sharon."

"I'll take care of clean up," Maria said. "After that, once Bruce is done with Sharon, we can work on her hair."

After Sharon's hair was done was naptime. Bucky was going to order this. If they were going to look to him to make this place bearable, he was decreeing when naps were taken. And naps would be had after Sharon's hair was cut, dyed, and cleaned.

Steve looked up over his head to where Sharon was still standing. "I don't have to do the dyeing, do I? I can guarantee that is something I'll mess up."

The expression on Sharon's face said that she'd been thinking he would, and she looked at the others with pleading dismay. Maria and Bruce both shook their heads, at which point, Sharon turned that look on Bucky.

Bucky shrugged. "Shouldn't be much harder than trying to shampoo a rambunctious five year old's hair without getting it in her eyes."

Sharon beamed, moving behind him from behind Steve and bent down, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You're a doll, Bucky."

"Hey, whose girlfriend are you supposed to be?" Steve said, looking mildly insulted. "I agreed to cut your hair and I didn't get that."

Oh please let that mean he was remembering her better than he had been the day before. If so, his memories were returning quicker than any of them had braced for and maybe they could get home faster.

Sharon stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just don't know what you do and don't remember. I didn't want to make anything awkward for you."

Steve patted her arm. "I'm trying," he said.

Sharon leaned her head against his. "I know," she said, then straightened and looked and Bruce. "Ready, Doctor?"

Bruce downed the last of his coffee. "Any time you are."

"I'll get the plates," Maria said, starting to stand. She glanced down at Sharon's plate on the floor. "If cat spit were hygienic, that plate wouldn't need to be washed."

"Sadly for you, it isn't, so it does," Bucky said, flashing her a smartass grin. "We'll leave the kitchen to you, dear. We have a dresser to see to and Sharon has a doctor's appointment."

Maria looked at Bucky over the table, bent over to retrieve Sharon's licked clean plate. Bucky was at the wrong angle to appreciate that. "And after that, we put things away, correct? Or Sharon's hair first?"

Bucky blinked, halfway to his feet. "You can put things away and nap if you want," he said. "I don't think it'll require more than the three of us to get Sharon's hair done, unless she wants opinions that aren't ours."

When Maria turned to Sharon, Sharon shrugged. "I wouldn't mind a woman's opinion on how the cut looks before we start dyeing it. It'll look bad before shampooing after the dye's in regardless."

"Then I'll come back," Maria said, grabbing Bruce's empty coffee cup. "Go on, we all have our tasks."

Oh good, someone else was handing out an order. Get yer asses in gear, people.

Bucky and Steve slipped out of the cafeteria on Bruce and Sharon's heels, leaving Maria mobbed by about a dozen or more cats that had sampled Sharon's plate and wanted more. The two pairs split up at the hall leading to the eastern dorm wing.

"I haven't even seen the room," Bucky said. "You're sure another dresser will fit in there? You know, before we get too far into this."

"It'll fit," Steve assured him. "And we'll need it once the rest of our clothes get here. Especially since the closet's small and our uniforms take up quite a bit of room, so there won't be much left for regular clothing."

Bucky frowned. "I didn't realize the closet was that small. We'll figure out what to do when we can both look at it, I guess."

"I think we'll be okay if we just hang pants and put everything else in drawers. That'll make our nice shirts a bit wrinkly, but we're not exactly going to be going out for a night on the town with the girls any day soon."

"Too bad," Bucky said. "Might help you get to know Sharon better." He peered up at Steve as they reached the stairs, stepping back to let Steve go up first. "How well _do_ you remember her?"

Steve didn't answer at first, taking the steps two at a time and in a helluva hurry.

Okay, fine, question retracted.

Once they were on the third floor, Bucky right on Steve's heels, Steve looked at him. "I remember how I feel a lot more than actual events. I remember a few things here and there, but mostly I just recognize her as someone important to me."

That sounded familiar to Bucky. "So she's not a stranger, at least."

Steve shook his head, opening the door to the nearest dorm. "No, not in that way." He glanced back at Bucky as they entered the room. "Was it like this for you?"

"Yeah." Bucky examined the room; a queen bed centered right across from the door, a closet in the far right wall, a tall but narrow dresser between the foot of the bed and the wall by the door, and a small desk and chair next to it. The private bathroom was on the left side of the room. "Is this what the other dorms look like?"

"Mm. Plain as can be. That desk _might_ make it hard to fit another dresser in, but with as narrow as they are, I think one will fit on the wall by the bathroom door." He looked at Bucky, and when he spoke, his voice got quiet. "I know we're pretty messed up right now. I don't like it, but I can admit it to you. You sure we're both okay with the forced closeness of sharing a bed?"

Bucky spent a few second studying him before answering. "We have never had a problem with sharing a bed, Steve. Especially not when one of us was hurting. I think the only time in my recent memory that we whined about it was when we went to Nebraska with Natasha, and that was more of a token protest to the fact that the beds were doubles and therefore crowded."

"Beds, plural?" Steve asked, moving around to the far side of the dresser. "And why am I remembering you protesting someplace out west?"

"One in a hotel, then the sofa bed at her apartment," Bucky said, positioning himself at the other side of the dresser. "And that was at Tony's vacation house, and okay, yes, I tried to get out of it because I wasn't really comfortable asking for something I needed yet." He took a breath. "Okay, I'll go first, down these stairs and then up the others?"

"Works for me." Once they were both crouched and had grips on the dresser, they counted to three and hefted it up. It wasn't heavy, not by their standards, but being so tall, it was somewhat unwieldy. "Okay, set it back down."

Bucky didn't question why, he knew Steve had an idea and Steve's ideas tended to be better than Bucky's stupid ones. "What've you got in mind?"

"We'll carry this down on its side," Steve said. "It's tall enough that it might knock one of us down the stairs. You get the top, I'll get the bottom. You first down the stairs."

See? Better.

Refraining from making a remark on it and bringing up a topic he really wasn't wanting to discuss, he helped Steve tilt the dresser towards him to lift it up on its side. It took some creative maneuvering to get it out the door and around the corner, but they managed. They coordinated the stairs by announcing each step they took together, keeping Bucky from getting toppled while going slower backwards than Steve could go going forwards.

Light spilled into the main hallways from the dining room as they passed from one wing to the other. Bucky could hear sounds of Maria still in the kitchen. He considered asking if she needed help. He didn't think it took that long to load a dishwasher, but she might've hit a snag. But she was a capable woman, he simply turned his comm on to listen if she asked for help.

"Okay, up the stairs," Bucky said, helping Steve turn the dresser. "This is a pain in the ass, by the way."

"I know," Steve said. "But there weren't any spare dressers on this side. Just tell me when you're ready to go up."

Bucky braced himself, tapping the back of his heel backwards until he found the stair. He readjusted his grip on the dresser, then hauled himself up on the first stair with a notice to Steve. Step. Step. Step. Up to the landing at the second floor, twist around to get up to the third. Step. Step. Step. Careful, need to stop? No, just needed a better grip. Okay. Step. Step. Step.

Despite the fact that it barely touched his limits of how long he could go carrying even heavier things, Bucky was damn glad to get the dresser set down against the wall next to the bathroom door. He stepped back. "You're good at spatial relations," he said. "That fits pretty nicely there."

Steve stayed by the dresser. "Does it need adjusted?"

Bucky studied the dresser and its position with a critical eye for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Nope, it's fine there." He sat down on the foot of the bed. "Think I have time to unpack before Sharon's ready for us to play stylists for her?"

Steve sat down next to him. "Depends on how much Bruce can do with whatever supplies we have. I don't even know how he'd go about figuring this one out."

"Me neither," Bucky said, eyes wandering around the room. It really was the same as the other side, right down to the plain cream wall paint. There were no signs of anything having been hung on the walls. Then he looked down at their suitcases. "Might as well unpack now rather than doing it later. We might be too tired later."

"I'm too tired now," Steve complained, though he didn't sound serious about that statement.

"Same here," Bucky said, standing up regardless. He zoomed in on the bag with the uniforms, pulling out the cash. He handed it to Steve. "I leave this in your hands."

Steve took the money and stuffed it in the top drawer of the dresser by the door, apparently claiming that one. "I'll let you hang the uniforms, then."

Good. Bucky wanted it that way. Steve was less likely to notice Bucky sneaking the Winter Soldier Project files out of the bag and into his own clothes to be hidden the way Steve was hiding the money. He had a feeling Steve had forgotten some of what was in there, and he just didn't want to deal with Steve reading about all that again. Not when Hydra was in. That would only be worse. Bucky wanted to wait a bit before letting Steve read the files again.

Bucky stuffed the envelope with the files into his suitcase while Steve was occupied with his own suitcase, then took care of the uniforms. Steve hadn't been wrong about how little room there was going to be in that closet after hanging their uniforms, especially since Bucky now had a coat to add to them.

While setting up the bathroom to his liking- yes, he was fussy, at least Steve understood -he located the hair scissors. "Hey, Steve."

"Yeah?"

Bucky held the scissors out the doorway, holding them by the bladed ends. "You'll need these."

Steve took the scissors with care from Bucky, and Bucky tilted his head to the side, trying to decipher his thinky face. Steve was studying them uncertainly. "I really don't know about this," he said. "I hope she doesn't want anything fancy."

"I doubt she'd make you do something complicated," Bucky said. He stifled a yawn and went over to the bed and flopped down. "Okay, I know I said we'd dye her hair before napping, but I think she might have to wait. I'm exhausted."

Steve set the scissors down on Bucky's dresser and joined him, sitting down by his feet. "It's been a long few days."

"Long two weeks, but you don't remember most of that."

"I can feel the effects of it, though."

"Fair enough." Bucky tapped his comm, an unnecessary move, but it helped him concentrate on it past the fatigue. "Hey, Sharon, Bruce, either of you online?"

"I'm here," Bruce said. "And there's not much I can do to figure out why she's not reacting, but she most assuredly is not having any sort of reaction, not even an unnoticeable one."

"He gave me some Benadryl just in case," Sharon said in the earpiece. "Which just puts me to sleep. I'm gonna have to take a rain check on my hair, guys."

Bucky smiled faintly. "Just what we were going to tell you. We're tired as hell. I think everyone would do good with a chance to recharge. It's been a damn too long."

"Too long what?" Maria asked, joining the conversation.

"Too long in general," Bucky said. "But seriously, we're going to nap, sounds like Sharon is about to get knocked out, why don't we all rest? Make all of us less cranky."

"That sounds like a good idea, and as everyone's doctor, I'm seconding that order," Bruce said.

Bucky stifled a yawn, fighting it back until he'd said a general goodnight and turned off his comm. "Don't forget to turn off your comm, Steve," he said, pushing Steve's butt off the foot of the bed so he could stretch out his legs.

He was so exhausted that he barely noticed when the bed jostled from Steve laying down on his side. He had to squirm over a bit because Steve insisted on getting under the covers and Bucky was just fine on top of them. Once Steve was settled, Bucky scooted back on the bed and finished falling to sleep.

His sleep was restful until he felt the covers getting tugged under him. He curled up tighter and scowled, not yet letting himself be woken beyond what was needed to grumble "stop taking the blankets, you hog," at Steve.

"I'm not."

Bucky's eyes snapped open. Steve's tone wasn't sleepy, it wasn't groggy, it wasn't even grouchy. His tone was pure anger, and Bucky was suddenly very awake and sitting up frantically, braced for a threat.

The manila envelope that held the Winter Soldier Project files folder was at the foot of the bed, and the old notes written in careful strokes were scattered about in front of Steve, and a second look showed that they only seemed scattered, and that Steve had been meticulous about keeping them spread out in order. Pictures littered the papers like dead leaves layered over grass, pictures of himself at the various stages of the drugs, in cryo, the attachment of his arm, pictures of the chair and training. Pictures Bucky didn't like seeing.

Steve was gripping the bedding in his fists, hands curling in as if trying to rip the covers out from under Bucky and send him flying off the bed in an attempt to tear the fabric apart.

"What did they do to you?" he demanded in a hot whisper, tears making his eyes red. "Is this what created the Soldier? Why did you hide this?"

Bucky reached over and started trying to put things back into their place, his shaking hands making it difficult. He hadn't been ready, hadn't wanted Steve to see yet, to remember. Bucky had never had to see Steve's first reaction to the files, and right then, it terrified him. Hydra was in Steve, Steve confused the Soldier with Hydra, that much had been clear in his sketches. Seeing this connection between Bucky and the Soldier so vividly made the whole situation like a keg of gun powder and someone was playing with a lighter over it.

"Because you're damn well not ready," he said, forcing his voice to stay firm.

Steve grabbed his metal wrist and pulled it away from the picture he was grabbing. "So you get to decide that for me?"

Bucky yanked his arm away with a snarl, his initial fear snapping back into anger. "This is _my_ project, Steve, I'll share it when I'm ready. Now let go of me before we end up tearing these pages."

Steve didn't let go, trying to move the pages away from Bucky's reach. "Now it's when _you're_ ready? This isn't something anyone's gonna be ready for," he said, voice turning into a venom that Bucky had heard before, but never directed at him.

In a desperate attempt to preserve the pages and get Steve to let him go, he shoved Steve off the bed. Steve flailed, let go of Bucky's wrist, and landed ass first on the ground. Bucky scrambled to grab everything, not caring if it was in order or not, and put them back in their folder. "Let it lie, Steve," he said, sticking the folder into the envelope.

There was a knock at the door. "Bucky? Steve?" Maria's voice. "Are you two okay in there?"

Bucky and Steve looked at each other, then Steve got up and headed to the door while Bucky hurried to hide the files in his dresser drawer.

"We're fine, Maria," Steve said after opening the door. "He just kicked me out of bed." He shot a glare to Bucky.

Bucky joined him. "That's because you were hogging the blankets again," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. That lie had come out too smoothly on both their parts. He was lying to his own girlfriend and Steve had started it all too easily.

Thanks a lot, jackass.

Maria didn't look convinced. She probably heard their raised voices. They probably all did, but only Maria had been brave enough to confront them on it. "If you're sure everything's all rig-"

She got cut off by the power abruptly cutting out. The sounds of the AC were silenced and the light in the bedroom flicked off. That didn't really lessen the irritation too much, but it added a layer of confusion, like icing on a shit cake.

Bucky took in a deep breath and pushed past Maria and Steve. "I'll go take a look at the arc reactor, maybe something's gone funky."

"I can do it," Bruce said, and Bucky turned, staring down the hall to see that both Bruce and Sharon were in the hallway, looking concerned. The only source of light was the window at the far end.

Bucky would rather everyone just go back to bed and pretend they hadn't heard anything that he was certain they did, but there wasn't much point in that. "You know more about it, I guess," he conceded. "I'll check the fuses, maybe something got tripped."

They all looked up when the sound of power came back, the AC chugging away, and the light coming from Steve and Bucky's room returning. Bucky and Bruce looked at each other. "Should we check those out anyway?" Bruce asked.

"Probably not a bad idea," Bucky said. "Turn on your comm, stay in touch. The rest of you can go back to sleep."

Sharon shook her head. "I'm awake. I was waking up anyway."

"Then I'll get the scissors," Steve said. "We can work on your hair." His voice as rough, but clearly trying to be as gentle as possible

For some reason that Bucky couldn't _begin_ to fathom- try harder, jackass -that attempt didn't do much to ease the anxiety on Sharon's face. "All right. I'll get the picture of what I want."

"Get the dye too," Bucky said. "We'll just do that when we cut your hair. We're all up at this point." His voice was far kinder than Steve's had been. Bucky had forced himself to gain an extraordinary amount of patience to work with his damaged team, trying to set aside his own problems to take care of them all.

Steve, you weren't helping.

"Okay," Sharon said, sounding a bit calmer as a result of that godly amount of patience. She disappeared back into her room.

"Come on, Bruce," Bucky said, waving him to come with. "We have power sources to look at before something else happens."

They headed downstairs in silence, until they got to the first floor, when Bruce decided to speak up. "You two had an argument?"

Yup, they'd all heard the near-shouting. "Just a small one," he said. "Not a big deal. Brothers argue, it happens."

Bruce made a thoughtful noise. "If you're sure." He didn't sound convinced, but he he was obviously not going to comment further.

"Comm on?" Bucky asked when he reached the basement door.

Bruce tapped his ear. "Comm on. I'll let you know if I find anything."

Bucky nodded once, then headed downstairs. Cali came running from wherever she'd been hiding and nearly tripped him on his way down the stairs. "Damnit, Cali!"

She waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, looking contrite. Well, at least she had the decency to look guilty.

He bent down and rubbed his thumb between her eyes once he was at the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes closed in bliss, then she got up and rubbed up against him. She sat back down and seemed to wait for him to pick where they should go next.

Sigh.

He headed down the not as nice hall of the basement, passing the furnace and the hot water heater, and finally down to the room with the fuse boxes. He flicked on the light and stepped into the room, then froze. Ice went down his back, causing his stomach to clench up.

On the wall by one of the fuse boxes, the paint that had been peeling before had all flaked off, revealing that the darker color on the wall behind it was not more paint, but a giant burn mark.

Aw, shit.


	3. It Makes Me-

"Problems already?" Tony's voice over the comm said. "You've been there less than a day."

Bucky glanced back at the others, Sharon at the computer station, Bruce at his medical station, and once again, Maria and Steve hovering over his back. After seeing how fast that paint had decided to flake off after a power flicker, Bucky had evacuated everyone to the quinjet.

"Well, there's a few, but the big one is we're not sure if the place is gonna burn down around our ears or not," Bucky said.

"What?" Tony asked in a sharp snap, not angry but severely confused.

Bucky took in a deep breath. "There's a scorch mark on the wall by a fuse box in the basement," he said. "It'd been mostly hidden by paint when I first checked out the room this morning, but we had a power flicker a bit ago, and when I went back down, all the paint on it had flaked off. Bruce checked the arc reactor, and I checked the fuses, there doesn't look like there's a problem except that it looks like something flash fried on the wall there."

"Oh, that." Tony's voice was way too calm for what Bucky just told him. "I don't know why the paint did such a poor job at covering it, but there'd been a fire at that place that caused it to shut down. That's when I snapped it up- the building was good, the damage was mostly superficial, and the price was low. They thought it was an electrical fire, but when my crew went in to fix the place up, the wiring was fine. I personally inspected everything when we hooked up the arc reactor. I can vouch for its safety."

"And the paint all flaking off within a day of the power being in use here?" Bucky couldn't believe how cavalier Tony was treating this.

"A little weird," Tony admitted. "I'll come out and take a look when we take your stuff to you, if it'd make you feel better. But you're an engineer, you could do it just fine."

"Tony, I design weapons and medicines, I'm not an electrician," Bucky protested, elbow on the console, forehead in his hand. "Not every scientist and engineer out there is as good as you to multitask everything. Believe it or not, I'm not a genius here."

Tony sighed in a melodramatic manner that was completely unnecessary. "I know that, but you're damn smart. Was the wall hot when you found that mark?"

"No."

"No sparking in the room or tripped fuses?"

"No." Bucky felt irritated. Tony was talking down to him and he didn't like it.

"Then you have nothing to worry about. That spot's leftover from the fire, the paint wasn't adhering to it. It's weird that it was so abrupt, but you and Bruce know that arc reactor, I know you know how it hooks up, you guys can check it out. If there's something wrong, I'll make sure it gets fixed or find a new place to send you."

Despite Bucky's best efforts to interrupt because Tony was very suddenly making him- and the others, from the looks on their faces -feel like scared children running to a parent that was ready to shove them into a corner with a toy and told to amuse themselves, Tony kept right on going. "But seriously, Bucky, I just dumped Hydra information that is going to endanger Israel about three hours ago and I'm already getting hit by the media and government agents. Unless you find it's a life or death situation over there, I can't do anything."

Tony took a deep breath, and Bucky slumped in his seat to accept more logic pointing out how silly he was being. "Now. If you and Bruce find that there is a problem, I will shove the world aside to get you guys either out of there, or the problem fixed if it's above your pay grade. I promise. I didn't send you guys out there to abandon you."

"Well, that's nice to hear," Bucky muttered, feeling very put out and a bit like he failed his team by not being a proper leader and being proactive instead of reactive.

"If you thought otherwise, you hurt my feelings," Tony said. "What else was there?"

Sharon came to Bucky's rescue so he could sulk for a minute. "I found two rooms off the lounge. The watch tower and another room across the hall are both locked up. The room across the hall has a keypad code and the one up to the watch tower was a keypad and hand print lock."

"So was the building out back," Maria said. "What's in those places and how can we get access?"

"Oh those." There was that completely unaffected attitude again. But, then, as Tony had said, he had a lot on his plate all of a sudden. A few bumps in the school was probably the least of his worries. "The back building's a training room, like the floor here in the Tower. The watch tower is nothing but computers, surveillance for the grounds, access to other Avengers' locations or future locations, and all the old school data that I saved just in case. That other room's where our uniforms are stored when we're there. I'll send Junior the keypad codes for those, and have a program stick sent out for you to add your hand prints into the keys at the building and the computer room. That should get to you in within the next day or so. Bruce, did you have a list of medical stuff for me?"

"I do," Bruce said. "I'll upload it to Junior, if Sharon will trade me places so I can get to the computer station."

"Sure," she said, getting up and moving to take his spot at the medical station.

Bruce pulled his phone he'd made his list on out of his pocket and started uploading the file onto Junior's computers. "It should be incoming within a few seconds," Bruce said. "It wasn't too sparse in there, but there's a few things I'd like just in case."

"JARVIS says it's incoming," Tony said. "While that makes its way to me, was there any other thing I didn't foresee us needing?"

Bucky looked around at the others, all of them shaking their heads. He sat up and leaned on the console. "No, we're good. I had to throw out some of the so-called food you had here because it'd expired, and the lack of spices is appalling, but as soon as we can get Sharon properly disguised, she's taking some money into town and getting stuff for us."

Tony made a rude noise. "Leave it to the cook to bitch about the kitchen."

"The doctor's bitching about the doctor's office," Bucky pointed out.

"Yeah, and you can do something about your kitchen yourself," Tony said, volleying the point back to Bucky. "Bruce has to actually get things from me to help him."

"Asshole."

"Which is your way of saying I'm right. Thank you. Now, JARVIS has Bruce's list, your stuff will be there soon, I will talk to you another time. I have to get on the phone with the president now."

The line disconnected.

Bucky sighed, folding his arms on the console and pillowing his face on his arms. "So I feel like a dumbass. I dragged us out here like a bunch of kids who can't take care of things ourselves."

Steve patted his flesh shoulder. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he said. "We all agreed it was the thing to do. None of us thought to dig into the wiring ourselves."

"Honestly?" Maria said, crouching down next to Bucky, just inside his vision. "I think we all just wanted an excuse to go home. None of us want to be here, a potential problem with this place came up and we immediately went for the option that stood a chance at getting us out of here."

Silence fell over the group, her words sinking in. She was right, she was exactly right. Bucky had wanted the problem to be a problem. And once he'd sat up and looked at his teammates, he realized they had too.

Bruce was the first to break the silence. "So the question now is, do we make Steve and the girls stay here while you and I work, or take the chance of letting them back in the building?"

"They can come back in," Bucky said. "They might be able to help. If we're gonna look at the wiring behind that spot, we're gonna have to tear down some wall. And checking for exposed wires isn't hard. We'll make it family game day."

"If we're gonna dig into that wall, we're gonna need a sledge hammer and to be careful with it," Maria said. "Do we have one of those?"

"No idea," Bucky said. "Might be one in the grounds building. Steve, will you go check for that? Bruce, I'm leaving the arc reactor to you. I know you checked it once already, but we should cover our bases." He turned the chair around to see both Sharon and Maria- who had stood back up -a bit better to address them. "Sharon, Maria, there's a lot of exposed cables above the hallway in the utilities section of the basement. There's step ladders and regular ladders down there if you need them, get up into those cables and look for any place the insulation is failing or there's obviously exposed wires. When Steve comes back with the sledge hammer, assuming we have one, I'll take it to the wall, he and I will work on the wires behind that wall."

"And if we don't have one?" Maria asked.

Bucky sighed. "I guess I could punch the wall a few times. Really don't care to punch down a wall, though. That seems tedious. We'll get Sharon disguised and send her to town prematurely to get one."

Sharon's eyebrows raised. "A sledge hammer? Where would I go to get one of those?"

"A Home Depot or some place similar," Bucky said. "They're necessary for certain home renovations. Like knocking down walls."

"You got it, Chief." Sharon drew in a breath. "So I suppose we get to work. Glad we had naps before this came up."

Bucky glanced at Steve, who Bucky was sure hadn't napped at all. But he said nothing; it was nobody else's business. "Yeah," he said in agreement. "Come on, let's get to work."

With a thank you to Junior for humoring their communication request, they left the quinjet. Bruce decided to follow them back to the building before splitting down the path to the former stable houses, rather than tromp around the trees until he found it. Steve took the shortcut through the house to get to the grounds building rather than go all the way around the building.

Probably smart.

"Go on ahead," Bucky told the girls once they were in and Steve was back out. "I'm gonna find something better than this t-shirt to work in." He glanced down at his Winter Soldier shirt. "As dumb as it is, Steve gave it to me, I don't want to work in it."

Maria raised one eyebrow with a suggestive smile. "A tank top, perhaps?"

"Dear, there's children present."

Sharon gave him a glare. "A child who protected your dumb ass without even knowing who you were for months."

Bucky patted her shoulder. "Just go help Maria, I'll be right back down."

His reason for wanting to go upstairs wasn't as much to change his shirt, as much as find a new hiding place for the project files that Steve had snooped into. He'd worry about rearranging the page and pictures into proper order later.

Once in his room, he went to his dresser and pulled out a tank top that he'd brought on the off chance he had to do some heavy lifting work, just like he was about to do. While he changed shirts, he thought about where he could hide the files. Under the mattress on his side seemed obvious, but the chance of everything getting bent from his weight on them stopped that idea from being a good one. And Steve had proven he was willing to get into Bucky's suitcase.

Nosy jackass.

He tucked it into a desk drawer for the moment. It wasn't ideal, but he lacked other options.

Reasonably certain that Steve wouldn't go looking until after Bucky'd had a chance to organize the files and find a better hiding place for them, Bucky hurried down the stairs and back into the basement.

"How's the search going?" he asked the girls as he passed them.

They were both up on step ladders, halfway down the hall. "Nothing so far," Maria said, feeling along a cable. "No tears in this one either. Oh!" She glanced down at Bucky. "Steve's waiting for you. We have a sledge hammer."

"Good. Thank you." Bucky headed into the fuse box room where the burn was and where Steve was waiting with a sledge hammer, just as promised. Bucky held his hand out for it. "I'm better dressed for the dirty work."

Steve handed it over. "Not gonna hit anyone with it, are you?" he asked in a quiet- and Bucky thought cruel -accusation. He heard the unspoken reference to the Soldier.

Bucky yanked it away with his metal hand. "Don't be ridiculous," he snapped just as quietly. "We're not gonna do this, are we? At least try remembering more than that lab room before you start getting pissy at me for keeping him around. And don't think I had a choice on that anyway."

Steve sighed, standing back away from the wall. "I thought you said you had gotten better," he said, the venom gone and why had it been there in the first place, damnit, Steve. But while his tone had calmed, he sounded hurt. Fuck you, Rogers, you fucked this one up. "I remember being allowed to think that."

Ignoring Steve for a second while Bucky inspected the mark, knocking on the concrete with the wooden end of the hammer for signs of where the cement might've been the weakest from the heat that caused that mark. "I never said he was gone," he finally said. "I just said I was more me."

He looked back at Steve. "I also recall telling you that he loves you just as much as I do. That's the problem, after what they did to you, I _can't_ trust him enough to not cut down a teammate to get to you if he thinks you need him." He glanced towards the door to the hallway. "But this really isn't the place for this argument."

Steve glanced around the doorway into the hall. "Anything, ladies?"

"No," came Sharon's voice, floating from further down the hall. "Everything looks good through here. What about other places where there's wiring? We're not gonna knock out every wall in the building to look at the wiring, are we?"

"We shouldn't have to," Steve said, then glanced back in at Bucky for further answer.

Bucky shook his head. "If we can't find anything down here or at the arc reactor, we'll have to just stick around and wait to see if it gets out of hand. The occasional light flicker, assuming these wires and the reactor are fine, isn't a big deal. Speaking of, though." He turned on his comm. "Bruce, how's the reactor look?"

"It looks fine so far," Bruce said. "But I'm giving it a complete engineering check up. There's some parts of this I don't understand, I might have to make note of those parts and if you don't find anything inside, I'll chance contacting Tony again to ask about those and their status."

"Good idea." Bucky took proper hold of the sledge hammer, putting his left arm as the power arm and his right arm as the steadying one. "Let's see what's behind this wall. Steve, once I get a hole, wanna help me yank out pieces so we're not throwing hammers at wires?"

Steve stepped back fully into the room, out of the way to the opposite side. "Ready and waiting."

Bucky wound up the hammer, and with the whining screech of computers in his arm forced to give all their power, he threw his strength into one good swing. The thick metal head of the hammer hit the concrete wall with enough force to shatter through concrete that crumbled around the hammer head, leaving behind a hole big enough to crawl through.

He pulled back the sledge hammer and looked at the hole, then at Steve. "I think we can yank away parts from here. What do you think?"

Steve walked over and stuck his hands in the hole and yanked back against the wall where it was weak. A big chunk of cement hit the ground. "I think we're making a lot of dust," he said, stepping back and coughing. He looked at Bucky. "Changing shirts probably would've been a good idea."

Bucky glanced down at his tank top, already turning white from the dust. "Your shirt's fine, I just didn't want to ruin the one you got me that I was wearing."

His statement actually got a small smile from Steve, a smile that quickly turned into a guilty look. "I'm sorry," he said, voice low again. "I was just upset. I don't like the idea of that happening to my best friend. You'd feel the same."

"I know," Bucky said, reaching his metal hand into the hole on the opposite side from Steve and yanked out a big chunk. "It was just a rude awakening." He looked at Steve. "Now, we work, no more of this. This can wait. The potential safety of the team can't."

"You're the boss," Steve said, gripping another part of the wall and pulling. Another large section came out and landed on the floor at their feet. He stepped back and eyed the wall. "Okay, I think we got all of that mark. Let's move the concrete, get in at those wires."

Bucky used the hammer end of his sledge hammer to shove the big pieces of broken concrete into the corner nearest them, farthest from the fuse box. He set down the hammer, leaning it against the wall. "Lemme at it."

He and Steve traded places, Bucky taking up most of the space to examine the wires. Steve did his best to look as well, but Bucky was almost fully in his way. Bucky ran his metal fingers along the various cables, expecting shocks that he hoped his arm could handle.

Sigh. Maybe Bruce could look at it. Hopefully Tony would be coming with their stuff. If his arm malfunctioned, he'd have to.

Because Bucky liked being worked on.

"I'm not getting any shocks," he said.

Steve thunked his head softly on the edge of the hole. "Bucky, you will short out your arm doing that."

"No I won't," Bucky protested. "It handled Natasha's widow bites fine. Just have to break the source of the shock from my arm and it's fine."

"Bucky."

Bucky looked down at Steve, who'd crouched to start inspecting wires further down from where Bucky was looking. "Yeah?"

"Don't be stupid, please. Nobody here can fix your arm if it goes dead."

"We'll ask Tony to come in with our stuff," Bucky replied, going back to his inspection. Having felt no shocks, he started feeling around with his flesh hand for damage to the cables insulating the wires. "You know he will. And you or Maria can cook in the meantime. I don't like the idea of losing use of my arm, but I know we can fix it. It's a small price to pay to make sure this place isn't gonna burn down and kill us all."

"Mighty leader, throwing himself into the path of a bullet to get the others out." Steve sounded exasperated.

"I do _not_ wanna hear that from _you._ You're the one that flung himself on a damn grenade in basic."

Steve didn't react to that in a way that suggested a lack of memory of it, so Bucky assumed Steve knew what he was talking about. "You were like this before the Army," Steve said. "I don't remember that too clearly, remember? But I _do_ remember the shenanigans you led your brother and I into when we were younger."

That made Bucky smile. "Yeah, but we had fun." He leaned back away from the wall. "Okay, I'm not finding anything that makes me think something's wrong. No shocks, nothing's hot, no tears in insulation cables, nothing."

"Not down here, either," Steve said.

Bucky went around the room, checking the fuse boxes. Nothing had been tripped or blown. "This is weird. Bruce?"

"Still working, still finding nothing wrong."

"Hey, Bucky!" Maria called from the hall.

Ah, results. He looked around the corner of the doorway. "What is it?"

Maria- half down her ladder -and Sharon stared at him. "I thought you called me," Maria said.

Bucky slowly shook his head, wondering what the hell. "No, I heard you call me."

"I heard you too," Sharon said.

Bucky ducked back into the room. "Steve, you heard Maria call my name, right?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, loud and clear."

Weird. Weird weird weird. "Okay, so we're all hearing things." He looked down the hall again. "If you're done, we're done in here, let's go upstairs and start testing all the lights." And pretend that whatever just happened hadn't actually happened, because it was a bit spooky and Bucky was already getting creeped out by the place with the wiring thing going on.

Bucky and Steve headed upstairs, leaving the girls to put away the step ladders. They'd offered to take care of that and got told that there was no need, they were full grown women, they could handle step ladders, stop being old fashioned.

Yes, ma'am.

"Okay, we have the AC running," Bucky said. "And the appliances in the kitchen work, so they're plugged in. Those three electronic locks have been on this whole time. I guess we start turning on lights and see if any blow anything."

The split up, and Bucky told the girls to do the same. The women were directed to the front wings while Steve and Bucky took the back ones. They'd meet up in the middle.

"Okay, the arc reactor _looks_ clear," Bruce said in the comm. "What's going on in there?"

"Right now, we're just flicking on lights," Bucky said. "Seeing if anything blows. So far, nothing."

"Mm. Then I think I'll hold off on contacting Tony again about the reactor. If nothing else, Junior might have how it works stored in her memory banks, I'll go back to talk to her later."

"Come on inside and have fun helping," Bucky said, turning on the hallway light to the third floor of the boys' dorm, where the five of them were staying. None of the rooms went out when he tried those.

Well what the fuck.

"Steve, how's the other side?" Please say it's normal. Bucky would rather deal with a false alarm than an actual problem.

"Nothing's going out. There's one room that's missing a lightbulb, but other than that, it's clear over here."

"I'm inside," Bruce announced. "I'll take the middle rooms." Which amounted to the atrium, the doctor's office, and the lounge upstairs. That was fine, they'd all end up back around the same time at that point.

Not one damn light blew out. Not one. The only problem light turned out to be that missing lightbulb.

Once back in the central part of the building with the others, Bucky rested his hands in his face a second. "I don't believe this. Paint doesn't just melt like that."

"But we can't find anything wrong," Maria said. "It's an oddity, but I think it's one that can be dismissed, however creepy it might be."

Bucky sighed, lifting his head and looking around. Several of the cats were gathered nearby, almost like a pride of lions encircling prey. Stop that, cats. "Well, I guess we just work on Sharon's hair, like we were going to before. We've done everything we can, it's the only other thing I can think to do. Everything else is in Tony's hands."

"It's also lunch time," Maria pointed out. "I can put together some cold cuts, nothing fancy. They won't take long to eat and we can immediately do the cut and dye afterwards."

"We wouldn't have to go anywhere, either," Sharon said. "The cafeteria isn't carpeted, it'd be easier to clean hair clippings off of, and it won't stain if dye drips or something. I'll go get the dye." She paused. "Just to clarify, we really _are_ doing this this time?"

Oh Sharon. She had a point, they kept saying they'd do it and it'd get put off. "Barring an emergency, yes. Steve, go get the scissors. You left them on your dresser."

While those two went back to their rooms, Maria, Bucky, and Bruce headed to the cafeteria. The men sat down at a table, Maria continuing on into the kitchen. Bucky folded his arms on the table and rested his face on them. "This is a stupidly long day and I hate it here."

"It has been," Bruce said. "Just wait until the rest of our stuff gets here. We're gonna have fun fitting our entire apartments into those rooms."

Bucky looked up. "Well, there's the work room, and the lounge, Steve's art stuff can go there, for example. There's lots of room in this place. We'll just have to stop thinking of those dorms as if they were individual apartments. They're just bedrooms in a bigger place." He sighed. "Not that I don't miss my apartment."

"I miss mine," Bruce said. He looked Bucky over. "You should go wash your hands and face before lunch. You're a mess from work."

Bucky looked at himself. "Yeah, I should've changed before coming here. Eh, don't care. I'll just go wash up."

Steve and Sharon both returned while Bucky was in the kitchen, washing his hands and face.

"Do I look presentable, dear?" he asked Maria, fully expecting a smartass answer to match his smartass tone.

"Tolerable," Maria replied, handing him two plates with sandwiches. Both sandwiches were on the larger side. She set a bag of Doritos on one. "There. Those are for you and Steve."

"You're a wonderful woman, Maria," Bucky said. "Steve may or may not thank you for remembering his Doritos. It depends on if he remembers that they're his."

Maria's expression turned sympathetic and she put a hand on his arm before reaching for two more plates with more reasonably sized sandwiches. "Go on, I have this."

Bucky didn't argue, just took the two plates through the swinging door of the kitchen out to the table where the other three were sitting. Off to the side of where Sharon was sitting was the scissors, a folded piece of paper, and a box of brown hair dye. Man, it was gonna be weird, seeing her as a brunette.

Steve took the bag off his plate once it was set in front of him and studied it. "So this is my modern food vice, huh?" He looked at Bucky. "Why do I get the feeling that yours was stupid?"

Bucky jabbed his finger in Steve's direction. "Don't make fun of my Christmas tree cakes. I don't make fun of your stupid Doritos. Shut up and eat."

Maria joined them with Sharon and Bruce's plates, then disappeared back into the kitchen to get her own. Around them, the cats had joined with a chorus of hungry meows and begging purrs. There was never going to be such a thing as a meal in peace in that place.

Cali zeroed in on Bucky, sitting at his feet and tapping his leg occasionally. "No, Cali, you don't get any," he told her. "I don't have enough to share with everyone and I don't want you getting a complex."

The cat ignored him, tired of waiting for him to indulge her, and jumped up on the table between him and Steve. "Oh no you don't," Bucky said, grabbing her quickly with one arm, his sandwich held a safe distance away with his other hand. He moved his arm to drop her back on the floor, when a cold sensation zipped up his arm and Cali fell _through_ his arm.

No, that was impossible.

A tiny thought started forming in his head. "Steve, keep Cali from following me and protect the rest of my food," he said, pulling out a small bit of the deli ham from his sandwich. "I want to test something."

Of course, if he was right and Cali _had_ slipped through his arm, Steve may not be able to keep her from following him. So he pointed at Cali sternly. "Stay. Stay good and you get some."

"Bucky, where are you going?" Maria asked as Bucky got up with the ham in hand.

"Testing something." He didn't elaborate, heading out of the cafeteria. He closed the heavy doors that cut it off from the rest of the building, took five steps away from the doors, then crouched. "Okay, Cali, come get it!" he called into the room.

Part of him expected what came next, the rest of him was scared shitless as she appeared, dashing through the door and up to his hand. She snagged the meat from his frozen fingers.

No wonder the cats weren't setting off Sharon's allergies.

They weren't fucking real.


	4. We Could Fall Apart

"So they're _ghosts?"_ Sharon didn't sound skeptical, she sounded unable to process what Bucky said after what she'd just seen.

"I thought ghosts were completely immaterial," Bruce said. "Of course, there's little evidence that they even exist."

Bucky pointed at Cali, who was sitting on the table happily, licking her chops from the ham she managed to steal from Bucky's hand, stilled by shock. "Explain her going through a closed door."

"But we've been interacting with them as if they were physical, too," Bruce said. "I didn't realize ghosts could go back and forth."

Bucky shrugged and sat back down, staring at Cali like she might turn into a human flesh eating monster cat. "I've encountered a ghost before. At least I'm pretty sure I did. The people who knew him said he was. And his hand clinked against mine, I got the feedback from my arm when it happened."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bruce raise an eyebrow. "His hand 'clinked' against yours?"

"His right arm was made of metal," Bucky said. "Weirdest shit I've ever seen. But I heard the metal hitting metal. But the librarians were certain he was dead. He would've been way over a hundred if he wasn't. He'd been eighteen during the Munich Putsch, he said."

"When was this?"

Bucky nodded in Steve's direction. "That time he took me to the public library and I was looking for chemistry books more recent than what I had access to online. Ran into the ghost looking at the same book."

Steve sat back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling, brows furrowed in concentration. "I don't really remember this, but I remember cats having to do with it for some reason."

"You were reading a series of mysteries called the 'Cat Who' books," Bucky said. "I remember you complained that the cats were more spoiled than the furry Junior is."

There was still that frown. "Maybe that was it. I don't really remember this. But I'll take your word for it."

That was going to get frustrating. Bucky put it aside. Right now, they had a ghost problem on their hands that required some measure of focus. He'd sit down with Steve that night and go over what he could remember that might be important or might knock loose something else.

"Is there any chance that the presence of at least twenty ghost animals has something to do with the odd lighting scare?" Maria asked. "It seems unlikely, but the only ghosts I grew up knowing about are the campfire variety. These seem fairly benign."

Bucky reached out and touched Cali between the eyes with care. She lifted her head up against this hand, forcing a full head pet. His hand didn't once go through her. "Well, if you listen to pseudoscientific ghost hunter programs, electromagnetic spikes are associated to ghosts. That might screw with electronics at a high enough pulse, but nothing I've seen would explain melting paint off an old burn mark from a fire."

"Unless all these cats got caught in that fire down there," Sharon said. "Maybe they were hiding from bad weather without anyone knowing and when the place went up, they went with it. If the fire started at that spot, that might explain a bit. They could be telling us what happened to them."

"That hadn't occurred to me," Bucky admitted. "I think I want to go with that explanation, even if the idea of innocent animals getting caught in a building fire makes my stomach sick. At least the place is nice again for them. I'll tell Tony that twenty cats say thank you for fixing up the place."

Maria smiled, trying to hide it behind her unfinished glass of orange juice. "That'll confuse him."

"He deserves it," Bucky said.

"Not right now he doesn't," Steve said. "He's cleaning up the mess we made in Palestine."

Bruce came to Bucky's rescue, because Bucky was about to break something in anger. Steve's tone, whether he realized it or not, sounded like he was laying blame somewhere, and Bucky had been seen as that mission's leader and therefore it was Bucky's fault that things went south for them.

"More like Hydra made that mess," Bruce pointed out. "I don't know how much you remember leading up to when they sedated you, but they were trying to replicate the Winter Soldier Project on innocent people. Hydra made that mess and Israel's government helped them. All we did was give Tony the cleaning supplies and then got kicked out when we offered to help." A frown crossed his face. "Come to think of it, JARVIS said that copy of the project files that got to Israel came from an American government computer."

"Which means there's probably someone in the American government in on it," Bucky said, sitting up.

"Another Hydra agent, perhaps?" Maria asked, setting down her glass. The cats were momentarily forgotten.

"I hate to be the party pooper," Sharon said, "but this really isn't something that's our problem anymore. If Tony hasn't already figured that out, one of the others has and pointed it out to him. We have a new mission, and right now, that mission is learning how to live with ghost cats." She paused. "And dyeing my damn hair before it turns grey on its own."

"Hint taken," Bucky said. "Steve, the scissors. I'll take care of the dishes." He stood and started gathering up empty plates.

"I can do that," Maria said, getting up. "You can sit out here and see what you'll be working with when it comes time for the dye."

"You made the meal," Bucky pointed out, not liking the idea of her doing all the work.

She raised an eyebrow, picking up Bruce's plate. "And the cook cleans the kitchen."

Bruce cut in. "How about I do it? Let me feel like I do something around here besides put bandaids on skinned knees?"

Bucky and Maria looked at each other for a long few seconds before Bucky shrugged. "If he wants to," he said.

Maria handed her plate and Bruce's back to him. "I think you underestimate your worth here, but if it would make you feel better, here. I can come show you where things are kept."

Bruce took the plates and started taking the others from Bucky. "I can look around and find things," he said, then headed to the kitchen with the dishes and Steve's open bag of chips.

"I should probably wash my hands before doing this," Steve told Sharon. "Scoot out your chair, tell me what you want."

Sharon moved her chair away from the table and grabbed a folded piece of paper out from under the dye box. "Go clean your fingers. I don't want Dorito cheese in my hair."

"You're sure? Might look good with that dye," Steve said, and Bucky snorted. That sounded like their old banter. And Steve's wit that got reserved for people he loved.

Sharon bent her head back to glare at him. "Go wash your hands."

While Steve did that, Bucky pulled his chair out to sit in front of Sharon. "What's on the paper?"

Sharon handed it over. "An example of what I want. It's not complicated, really, most of it's in styling, and that's my job. I just can't see the back of my head to cut back there."

Bucky took the picture and studied it. It was a brunette woman with an old-fashioned bob, modernized by tendrils hanging off her front left side that were curled up into ringlets, the front 'bangs' swept aside into the curls. "I haven't see anything resembling the bob since I was a kid," he said. He looked at her with a critical eye. "Wouldn't look bad on you."

She smiled. "I'll take the word of the former womanizer."

Bucky frowned. "I was not a womanizer. That implies I was using them for my own entertainment."

Maria's deadpan kicked in. "He's very good at entertaining his partner."

Sharon looked at her. "I'm sure that's also something I don't want to know about." She looked towards the kitchen just as Steve came back out. "Your brother thinks the cut I picked will look good on me."

"Then it probably will," Steve said, walking up behind her. "He's a good judge of a lady's looks." He grabbed the scissors. "Now what am I doing?"

Bucky held the paper out to him. "It's a bob. Remember them from when we were kids? Aunt Betty had one."

Steve didn't look up from studying the picture. "Yeah, but she was a flapper at a speak easy and went to jail for it."

"Just because she engaged in illegal activities does not lessen how good the bob style looked on her."

Steve didn't reply, but leaned down around Sharon's shoulder. "You're sure about this? This is a lot of hair to get rid of."

"I'm sure," she said. "I checked, that's in style right now for upper class people and soccer moms trying to be upper class. One of the richer counties in New York, I need something that's going to blend in."

"All right," Steve said, setting the picture down where he could see it easily. "I guess we do this."

Knowing that Steve had a bit of a nerve problem when doing something new, Bucky decided to help him by taking the attention off of him and Sharon by starting a completely unrelated conversation with Maria. When Bruce returned, Bucky pulled him in with them.

Who got outside maintenance duties? We can rotate shifts. You and Steve get first round. Why thank you for volunteering us. We will both get you back later. Do I get a say in this? Shut up and work, Steve, unless you want your girlfriend to have a sloppy haircut. I'm trying my best, just leave me out of this conversation. You spoke up, just remember that.

That was met with a grumpy silence.

"So what do we do about the ghost cats?" Bruce asked. "I suppose it's nice they don't seem to leave presents in corners or shed fur and dander, but we're officially living in a haunted house. I can't be the only one who gets the willies from that."

"You're not," Bucky said. "But what're we gonna do? Call in an old priest and a young priest to banish a bunch of cats? They're not harmful, they're sanitary if they're not shedding, so they're not likely to ruin your office by mucking it up."

"And they seem to like us," Maria added. "And Cali seems exceptionally fond of Bucky."

Bucky peered under the table where Cali was still licking her chops from the bit more of ham she managed to worm out of Bucky's sandwich before his brain stopped going "she's a ghost" and went to "she's eating my lunch" and pulled his food out of her reach. "She certainly likes my food," he grumped in her direction.

She gave him a slow blink, generally considered a sign of affection in cats. "Yeah, kiss up, little girl. See where it gets you."

"With you? Everywhere," Steve said, a bit distracted. "Sharon, shouldn't I have wet your hair down first?"

Sharon was careful not to move. "You could've but we would've had to wait for it to dry for Bucky, since dye has to go on dry hair."

"Oh that's gonna be fun," Bucky said. He grabbed the dye box. "Mind if I dig into this?"

"Go ahead," she said. "I'd rather you know what you're doing ahead of time."

Bucky pulled out the thousand and a half pieces in the dye kit: two tubes of some sort of cream, a bottle half full of some other sort of cream, a pair of protective gloves, and the instructions. The instructions made it sound simple enough; one of those bottles of cream wasn't even anything he had to mess with, it was a regular conditioner for Sharon. "Hey, this says to do an allergy test before dyeing."

"I'm not allergic," Sharon said. "I've used that brand before, long time ago."

Bucky shrugged. "Up to you. It's your scalp."

It took Steve some more time to finish, and Maria and Bruce had gone silent, watching over their drinks while Bucky memorized the instructions on the dye.

"Bucky? What do you think?" Steve sounded nervous. Considering he was cutting his girlfriend's hair when the most he'd ever done was trim Bucky's hair when it got too long, Bucky didn't blame him.

Bucky leaned forward and examined Sharon's now very short hair and that was weird. The longer tendrils to one side of her face looked a little awkward, but that could be covered in styling. He got up, shooing Steve out of the way to give Sharon a look over. "It looks fine to me. Maria, what do you think?"

Maria got up and took her own turn around Sharon, who- Bucky imagined -was probably starting to feel a little nervous getting circled like carrion. "I don't see anything terribly amiss. It's not a professional job, but it looks workable."

Steve let out a huge sigh. "Good. I didn't want to be the one to mess this up."

Sharon tilted her head back to look at him again with a smile that glowed. "I knew I could trust you to do it."

Steve stepped over to look down at her so she wasn't trying to tilt her head back to an unnatural angle. He grinned and tapped her nose with the non-pointy end of the scissors. "You're lucky I lived up to that."

For a second, Bucky genuinely thought they'd get treated to a public display of affection, but then Steve frowned, sighed, set the scissors down, and walked out of the room. Sharon's smile quickly turned to a look of dismay, turning in her seat to watch him go. Bucky's hand on her shoulder seemed the only thing that stopped her from saying anything.

"Let it go," he said quietly, crouching down in front of her.

She turned back around, eyes sparkling with tears. "I hate this. We spent so long building this up and it's like it's all gone and I don't know what I did wrong."

Bucky reached up and pulled her into a hug, petting her now short hair. "It's okay," he said. She trembled in his grip, sobs pulled in and subdued. He had a feeling she'd rather cry much harder than that. "Go ahead and cry," he told her. "It's nothing you did wrong. We'll get his memories back and it'll be okay again."

Maria crouched by her side, a hand on her shoulder as she started crying harder. "It's okay, Sharon. It really will be."

They let Sharon cry for a minute before Bruce spoke up. "Bucky, is there any medicine you can think of that might counter this damage?"

Bucky looked over at him, rubbing Sharon's back. "Nothing I know of. If you and I were still at the Tower, we might be able to come up with something, but we don't have the tools here."

"Mm." Bruce took a sip of his coffee. "I'll get ahold of JARVIS, tell Tony that we need some stuff to work with for getting Steve's memories back. Getting them back is part of why we're here, he shouldn't say no."

"I'm not sure why he sent us here in the first place," Maria said. "He listed some legitimate concerns, but he had to know that treating Steve's memory loss as a medical problem would require medical attention that we simply can't give with only the four of us and no resources."

Bucky sat back a bit, lifting the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe tears away from Sharon's eyes. "I know why," he said quietly. "Steve would still be Steve even without his memories. This awkward situation might've still happened, but it's not the memories, it's Hydra."

Sharon sniffed hard a couple times, prompting Maria to go to the kitchen and return quickly with a paper towel. Sharon mumbled a thank you and blew her nose. "I thought that drug was out of his system."

"It is," Bucky said. "But Hydra always leaves a mark behind. We're trying to turn it into a scar instead of a fresh wound that just stopped bleeding. It's how they work."

Sharon's face was a mess of red eyes and white salt streaks down a flushed face, but her eyes turned cold. "How hard would it be to convince Tony to take us back so we can take them down?"

Oh Sharon. Don't go there. Don't go into that darkness. Bucky understood, wanted to find every single Hydra agent and give them a painful and torturous death for the way they were affecting his family, for what they did to Steve, for what he was seeing in Sharon's eyes. He brushed aside her bangs. "That's not our job right now," he said quietly. "Our job is to help Steve."

"And you," Maria said. When Bucky looked at her, there was a firmness on her face that he knew meant she wasn't taking no for an answer to her statement. "Don't deny it. You said neither of you could be trusted. Tony wouldn't send us all out here if you didn't need us too."

Bucky took in a deep breath, then shook his head and looked back up at Sharon. "That's something we can worry about later. You still up for this dyeing thing? We can put it off, if you want some time."

"No, that's okay," Sharon said, sitting up. She blew her nose one more time and wiped her face with her hands. "Let's get it done."

The dye job didn't take long, and Bucky was right, it wasn't any harder than washing his sister's hair when she was young. Easier, in fact, since Sharon didn't flop around like a dying fish. Once the dye was massaged into her scalp, it was a twenty minute wait before she had to go shampoo it out, and she chose to spend that twenty minutes on her own in her room.

"Gonna let you two sit in awkward silence for awhile," Bucky said once the trash from dyeing Sharon's hair was thrown out. "I'm gonna go find Steve."

"We'll be fine," Maria said. "Go on. Bruce and I can amuse ourselves."

Bruce raised his mug. "I'll get more coffee and start making some notes, get working on a medicine for Steve. We might be able to do something from here yet."

"Have fun with that," Bucky said. "I'll help later."

He didn't wait for another dismissal, simply headed out the door, looking for Steve. He wasn't in their room, but when he stepped back out into the hall, he paused, hearing Sharon crying in her room. He wanted to go try to ease her tears, but he knew she needed to cry, and she needed her alone time, and right now, his job was Steve. If Sharon wanted someone up there, Maria would be a better choice.

Bucky finally located Steve in the lounge, staring out the window to the grounds below. "Hey."

Steve didn't turn to look at him. "I keep wanting to tell her I love her," he said. "But then I remember that I don't even know her anymore. I can't remember her, I can't remember any of the conversations she said we had online before she showed up as Natasha's contact. I don't even remember when that happened."

Bucky knew the invitation was there, even if it wasn't issued, so he took it and shut the door behind him before walking over to stand on Steve's right side to listen quietly while Steve kept talking.

"I don't know what it's like to kiss her and I want to, I know I should, but I can't remember. I can't kiss a girl I don't remember anything about." He looked at Bucky. "Relationship differences aside, is this how it was for you?"

Bucky stared out the window, brows furrowed just faintly. "Yeah. I knew you. When I saw you upset and you never let me see you upset but I knew you were, I wanted to hug you and make the hurt go away. But I barely knew you. And I was scared of you. Scared you'd see Hydra and push me away. Realize there wasn't anything left worth salvaging."

Steve didn't answer, went back to looking out the window. "Hydra's good at that, aren't they?"

Bucky silently wrapped his arm around Steve's shoulders, resting his chin on Steve's shoulder. "They are. And we'll beat 'em."

Steve looked away from Bucky, reaching up and slowly picking the metal hand off his shoulder. "I don't want Hydra's side."

Bucky lifted his head, dropping his metal arm. "Is that going to come between us? That project? Because this arm is mine, Steve. I can't get rid of it. It's not Hydra's and you're the one that lectured me about that."

The deep breath Steve took in and let out in a huff of air after a count to ten was a release of anger he was trying to keep tightly controlled. Bucky knew that sound, knew the expression that came with it. "Sorry," he said, almost through clenched teeth. "I'm still getting used to it. I know I was before, but it's not something I remember."

That was a weak excuse, but Bucky accepted it anyway. "It's fine," he lied, waving it off. "Bruce is going to send out a message to Tony, ask for some stuff for us to work with, try to find something that help you get your memories back faster so you're not just running on gut feelings anymore."

Steve switched his gaze to his feet. "Thank you."

Bucky patted his arm a couple times before dropping his hand. "I'll let you brood for awhile. Tonight we can work on going through some old sketchbooks, work on helping you remember."

"We did that. It didn't work."

"That was before the drug was out of your system," Bucky pointed out. "We'll try again. Stories helped knock some of my memories loose, I don't see why it won't help you."

There was another one of those explosive breaths. "It's just an exercise in memorizing things," he said. "Knowing something isn't the same as _knowing."_

"I know," Bucky said, a bit peevish at Steve's tone. "And it helped me, we'll see if it'll help you. What else am I supposed to do, Steve?"

Another breath. "Nothing," he said. "You're right, we'll try it. I just wish things had gone differently."

Bucky frowned. "We all do." Then he spat out something petty; he was already tired of that angry huffing, as if Bucky was at fault for his memory being swiss cheese. "Just remember that I tried to convince you to go for another plan than selling you to them without any weapons."

Steve snapped his head around to give Bucky a dirty look. "So now it's my fault?"

Bucky didn't care about the growl in his voice. "It's Hydra's fault," he said. "But if you're gonna bitch about it, yes, I tried to convince you to go another way. I _knew_ we shouldn't've done it as soon as we realized Hydra already knew we'd sold you. You didn't fucking listen."

"And now that Hydra's gotten to you and neither of us can be trusted, you should just keep on leading us around here?" Steve retorted sharply. "I'm not the only one that Hydra worked on."

"But I'm the only one who knows you _and_ them well enough to help you!" Bucky snarled. "So don't give me that shit. It doesn't fucking matter whose mission it is or isn't right now, what matters is that you're my goddamn best friend and I'm the only one who can help you. So you can put up with it or deal with Hydra owning your head."

For a split second, Bucky almost thought Steve was going to strike him and he braced himself for it, ready to grab his wrist before he could make contact. It was such a ridiculous thought, but the look on Steve's face was one Bucky had only seen when Steve was really about to hit someone, usually a Hydra agent, by the anger in his eyes. Instead, Steve turned and left the room.

Bucky was tempted to grab something to throw at the closing door, but nothing grabbed his attention fast enough so he spun away from the door, smacking his fist soundly against the glass of the window. It left a tiny dent, like a rock hitting a windshield. Tony must've had the glass replaced with something stronger than regular glass. For a building meant to be as secure as the Tower, it wasn't surprising.

He found a chair to sit in and lowered himself down, resting his elbows on his knees and sliding his fingers up to hold his hair back from his face as he stared at the ground.

This was going to kill him. He was certain he'd go crazy before Steve's memories came back. And the worst part was, he knew that having the memories would only help so much. As long as that lab was still in there, Hydra had a grip on Steve's mind. That fear, and the fear of the Soldier, no matter how many times Bucky tried to tell him that Steve was the only person that _could_ trust the Soldier, it wasn't going to go away easily.

Seeing those files hadn't helped anything. It'd connected the killer in the lab with Bucky directly, and now Bucky was on the receiving end of Steve's fear and anger. And Bucky's own impatience had snapped out something stupid and caused this particular fight.

This was going to be a long goddamn process. A mission going far longer than any Bucky had been on before, to protect Steve and get him out of that lab. With the others to protect.

If he thought for half a second that the Soldier might have better luck, he'd use him in this, but with the Soldier already being a point of contention with those files, he was going to be useless unless there was a physical threat.

The thought of the files made him stand and head for his room. Nobody crossed his path; he hoped Maria and Bruce hadn't heard the argument, but if they did, they'd stayed hidden from both Steve and Bucky's path out of the lounge.

Maybe there was something in those files that would help him figure out a way to help Steve. Something, anything, a throw away observation.

So he headed for his bedroom, his footsteps heavy on the stairs as he went up with a sort of weariness. He was already tired of all of this. He wanted to go home. Trying to do this in an unfamiliar place without his normal arrangements and their normal escapes on the occasion that they started sitting on each other's nerves was going to be a nightmare.

He opened the door to his room to see Steve already there, lounged on the bed and staring at a page in a sketchbook. Bucky wasn't sure which one. Steve didn't say anything, but the anger looked like it'd eased, so Bucky walked in and shut the door behind him.

"Tell me honest," he said, and Steve sat up, setting aside the sketchbook. "Is it going to cause more fights if we're forced this close together all the time?"

Steve looked down at the sketchbook. "Having the same room helped you," he said, then picked up the sketchbook and held up the picture he was looking at. It was the bedroom in DC. "I remember this."

One corner of Bucky's lips tugged upwards slightly, for a moment, then dropped back down. "Yeah, it did. But I'm not in as bad shape as you are right now. So tell me honest, would it help you to have your own space? I can ask Maria if I can stay with her for awhile or I can take one of the smaller rooms on the second flo-"

"Don't go."

Bucky stopped speaking, looked at the lost look in Steve's eyes. He looked like the little guy from Brooklyn that he remembered from so many years ago. He was a strong guy, stubborn, prideful, but when he was around Bucky, he let himself be vulnerable when he needed to.

"It's worse at night." Steve's voice was smaller than what fit his post-serum body, belonged to the stubborn kid who didn't cry at skinned knees and black eyes, but cried when he had to rehome his pet dog because he couldn't afford to take care of him. 'Can I stay with you tonight?' he'd asked and Bucky had taken him in without a thought.

Bucky saw that little guy and without that same thought, he walked over to the bed, took the sketchbook from Steve's hand and set it aside, pulled his little brother into a hug. Like that might somehow change things, might be enough to make all the nightmares they were going to have go away.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly, resting his head on top of Steve's.

None of them were.


	5. The Broken Clock

It was day four at the school before the rest of their things showed up, Tony in tow. Or rather, the other way around.

They'd been a mostly peaceful few days; Steve and Bucky had resisted any urges to snipe at each other, although Steve had done a lot more nightmare sketches that Bucky had peeked at. It'd only been a few days since that drug finally got out of his system, so he couldn't really expect a big change, but it was disheartening to keep seeing signs of Hydra, and not just Hydra, but the Soldier's connection to them, over and over and over again in Steve's drawings. His sketchbook was almost full.

But Tony showed up and the relative peace was broken by the chaos of boxes of things appearing in their atrium to be sorted and unpacked. Bucky didn't want to, it meant that they were stuck there for awhile. For once, he hoped he had to pack up as soon as he'd unpacked. It was annoying, but he wasn't getting out of the unpacking, so he could hope.

"Tony, may I ask a question?" Maria said as a small handful of men and women that Bucky had seen working for Tony from time to time carried the boxes into the atrium.

"Shoot," Tony said, standing out of the way, off to the side of the open double doors, shielding his eyes from the summer sunlight with a hand. His response seemed a bit distracted as he watched the crew making trips.

Maria and the others were standing out of the way with Tony, making a chorus line of Avengers watching the workers like hawks, and Bucky couldn't imagine that made them calm.

"Why did it take four days to move already packed boxes?"

Tony turned his attention away from the crew to look at her. "I was getting together the stuff Bruce asked for, added a few things myself. Peter wanted a few more Dresden books sent with Bucky's stuff, I added a couple new notebooks and sketchbooks for them, I brought some stuff for Bucky and Bruce up in the work room I set up." He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a USB stick that had a different hook up than an actual USB. "And I had to program this so I can get your information into those locks so you can get into the rooms."

He poked the computer stick in Bucky's direction, just on the other side from Maria. "And don't worry, I know those are left hand locks. I put in recognition of biomechtium for you. You don't have a normal handprint, but as far as we know, your arm is the only biomechtium available. So it should stay secure."

Tony tucked the computer stick in his pocket. "So I had a lot of stuff to gather up while I worked on that infodump, too. So give me some credit here, wouldja?"

Maria looked at him. "My apologies for asking. Thank you for all this. We weren't expecting you to come here personally to do this."

Glad to have been thanked, Tony beamed and waved it off. "Hey, you guys are fellow Avengers. I like you. I'm gonna take care of you. Just remember, after this, minimal contact." He looked down the line at Sharon. "Good disguise, by the way. It took me a second to recognize you."

Sharon twisted her little curl. "Steve cut it for me," she said, practically singing his praises. "Bucky dyed it." She also said that proudly, but Steve got the majority of the credit. Oh sure.

Tony waved his hand down the line to get Steve's attention. "I thought you could only do trims."

Steve shrugged, showing off his humbleness without meaning to. "I just copied the picture she gave me."

"You two should open a shop."

"Chairs, Tony," Bucky said. "I don't want to be around those all damn day. Besides, professional dyeing is probably different from that box stuff."

Steve's jaw went taut and it took Bucky a second to realize it was the mention of the chairs as something to be avoided that had set him off. At least, that's what Bucky assumed. He couldn't think of anything else that'd rile him. But the tension faded quickly when he spoke up with "speaking of hair cuts, yours needs it again."

"Later," Bucky replied, turning back to watch the crew go in and out with boxes from the unmarked truck. They looked almost done; Bucky couldn't believe how much stuff they had. To think he could've lived out of a bag on the streets at one point. Granted, this stuff also belonged to four other people, but had they all really accumulated that much stuff?

"So how much of this is actually from our apartments?" Bruce asked.

"About two thirds," Tony said.

That seemed almost not enough all of a sudden.

"The rest is the stuff you asked for the medical lab. I haven't looked at the place in awhile, but I suspect you'll be using storage room in the basement for some of the less used stuff. There's also that stuff I mentioned for the work room for you two. You'll be well entertained." He clapped his hands together. "Okay, gimme the tour. We can skip the class rooms, they're boring, I remember that, and I'm willing to bet you guys didn't dorm far away, so we can skip those. But I got some locks to reprogram for you, and I might as well see what you've done with the place."

"All of nothing," Bucky replied, moving without thinking to take the lead with Tony, the others flanking and falling into their own formation. They worked their way around the boxes and the workers who were basically done. "We only had our suitcases to live out of. But the kitchen looks nice."

"Do I get a meal while I'm here?"

"How long are you staying?"

Tony glanced back at the stacks of boxes. "I figured I'd help set up the work room at least, if not helping Bruce set up the medlab. It's kinda my fault he didn't get to the one at the Tower, the least I can do is help with this one."

"So a day or so?" Bruce asked. "Unless you want to run nonstop all day. If a third of that is for the work room and the medical lab, we're going to be working awhile, and we'd like to get to our personal things, as well."

"I think we'll get it done quickly. Bucky here can help us with the work room, that'll make that room go faster, and we can recruit him to help with the medlab. You two will be slow to set your own stuff up, but I should be out of here by nightfall."

"What about the workers?" Maria asked. "You came in with them, are they staying, too?"

Tony shook his head. "No. One of the boxes marked for the medlab is my suit, I'll fly myself back." He paused, looking at the stairwell leading to the second floor. "When did you guys adopt cats?"

Bucky stopped and glanced past him. "They were here when we got here. Twenty ghost cats."

Tony gave him a skeptical side eye. "Ghost cats."

"Or something supernatural," Bruce said. "We all saw one of them run through a door, then physically interact with us an offering of food as if nothing was out of the ordinary."

Tony turned to stare at them all. "Why didn't anyone tell me? I could've made equipment to bring in to study this!"

"You're the one that dismissed the unnatural as anything worth bothering with," Bucky said. "Randomly melting paint? We think it might've had something to do with the cats. You told us to look for the solution ourselves, we did, we found it, that was the end of it."

"One of these days, Bucky," Tony said, giving him an evil look, "our respective smartasseries are going to clash in unhappy ways."

"You love me too much to do that," Bucky said as straight faced as humanly possible.

"Only sometimes." Tony rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay, supernatural cats. Yeah, probably had something to do with your melting paint. Any other incidents?"

Bucky shook his head. "None so far. Just them deciding to go through things to get to human food when they want it. The big calico's fairly well behaved, but the others aren't always so polite."

"So just like living with a bunch of cats you don't have to clean up after, then?"

"And that Sharon can interact with without having an allergic reaction, yeah,"

Tony nodded, looking around at the cats gathering along the walls to investigate the newcomers. "Okay, with everything I have to do yet, I'm putting it on my 'not that important' list unless you guys call and say things went to hell with them. But seriously, try to gather some information on the guys. I want to see some science. It'll be a nice break to read when I come back into the country."

"So the Avengers were called out?" Maria asked, arms folded across her chest.

"Yeah." Tony sighed. "I'm heading out tomorrow, Thor and Rhodey and Sam are already there. Natasha and Clint showed up, knew they would, they're bringing Dr. Hope with them once I set up a proper base of operations for us out there for him to be safe in. He doesn't have a Code Green he can use to join us, he needs a safe place to wait for us to bring the injured back to him. Or whatever doing out there. Not sure yet."

Nobody was surprised, least of all Bucky, when Steve finally joined the conversation with "we should be going."

Sharon took his hand and he didn't look uncomfortable because of it. "We will," she said. "Just not yet."

Steve looked at Bucky, and Bucky refused to dignify anything that might be going through Steve's head, merely returned the look with a flat expression. "Not soon enough," Steve said.

Don't show him anything.

Tony, smooth as ever, eased over the suddenly tense air that everyone was feeling by inviting himself to breakfast. "It's barely past dawn, you haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"Beyond some pastries I made last night, no," Bucky said.

"Good, I want food."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "You're a glutton, Tony. But fine, I'll make breakfast. We need to eat anyway if we have a long day ahead of us. Don't expect anything big for lunch."

"I am not a glutton," Tony protested, letting Bucky lead them back to the cafeteria. "I merely enjoy the finer things in life. I keep myself in shape, and I hardly overeat, I just happen to like your cooking. Take the compliment."

"I will," Bucky said, pushing open the doors. There was suddenly a parade of cats following them, tails up in the air. He pushed the stopper down on the door to let everyone in. "Don't think you furballs are sharing," he said. He looked at Tony. "I hope you didn't want my hashbrowns, we don't have the spices. Your selection you left was pitiful and Sharon's been waiting to go into town until you got here so we could figure out if anything else was missing that we could get ourselves."

Tony pouted. "I was kinda hoping for those. But fine, surprise me." He looked at the cats crowding around the group's usual table. "How many?"

"Twenty."

Tony shook his head and grabbed a chair to plop down into. "Don't envy you guys. My one is enough."

"And we don't have to clean a box or hairballs," Bucky said, heading for the kitchen.

"Brag about it," Tony called after him. "I demand a good breakfast to make up for that!"

Bucky motioned to Steve. "Hey, Steve, come help me. I don't have a bunch of food pre-ready for me to make a feast out of."

Steve's eyebrows raised, but he let go of Sharon's hand to follow Bucky, leaving Bruce and the women to join Tony at the table. Once the kitchen door had closed behind him, he walked over to the fridge where Bucky was already digging around for eggs- please say they have enough left -and some other things. "You don't really need help, do you?" Steve's voice was quiet, like he knew there was a serious subject coming up, but there was a hint of 'well, maybe he actually does and that's weird' to it.

Bucky was relieved to find enough eggs still and set the carton on the counter. "Nope," he said just as quietly. He straightened, giving Steve a stern look. "I caught that tone and that look when you said we weren't going out soon enough. We're not doing that shit today. There is too much to do and we don't need Tony going 'I told you so' about dropping our happy asses here, okay?"

Steve didn't look like he wanted to argue, taking in a breath of air that released any tension he still had in his brain. "You're right," he said. "And I'm sorry. I don't- I don't actually mean to do that. That kind of thing just pops out."

"That's Hydra talking," Bucky said, grabbing a pound of potatoes out of their potato bin. "Here, you actually can help. Grate some of these. I can't make the exact same hashbrowns, but Tony likes them anyway, and they're filling." He grabbed the milk out of the fridge, then shut the door. "But I know. I remember saying some pretty hurtful things to you early on in DC. Just not in front of Tony, okay?"

"Yeah," Steve said. searched the drawers for the grater, found it, went to work. "I just wish I knew how to get them out faster. We _should_ be out there. You and me, Hydra's our job. I know that. I'm starting to remember the war a little. Hydra's always been ours. And other people are fighting them for us. I don't know them, trying to remember, and I know they're teammates, just like the guys were back then, but we should _be_ with them."

"I know," Bucky said, working on whipping up some scrambled eggs. He didn't have all the spices he wanted for them, either, and the last few days had been torture in the kitchen for him, creating bland meals for his family when he knew he could do better with the proper ingredients. "And we will be. I don't know how we're going to do this, but we will. We're partners, we're in this mess together. No more going out without each other. That just got us both into trouble."

Steve stopped grating the potato in his hand and looked at Bucky, catching his attention with a smile. "Thank you."

Bucky stopped mid-crack of an egg. "For what?"

Steve shrugged. "Just for saying that. When we start arguing, it's kinda hard to remember we're partners in this."

Bucky went back to paying attention to the food he was making. "I know." He wasn't sure what else to say at that point. Thoughts flitted around his head, images and feelings and the notes of a song he was sure he knew, a song with words that might actually describe what was going on his brain, but he couldn't quite pin it down.

That didn't help come up with any words, so he didn't say any more.

Steve sounded like he was speaking with trepidation when he said "are you angry at something?"

Bucky looked up, blinking owlishly at him. "What? No. Why?"

"Because you went quiet," Steve said. "That was kind of a short response."

Bucky shook his head, going back to whisking the eggs and milk and cheese. "No, I just..." He frowned. "I guess I forgot that you don't remember this. One of the things I learned with Hydra, something I taught myself to survive them until it'd just become part of the Soldier, of me, was that I stopped thinking in words. You can't mouth off if you don't have the words to mouth off with. Words aren't easy for me sometimes. Sometimes something spills out okay, but mostly, I just don't know how to say what I'm thinking, because I don't know what I'm thinking."

"That wasn't in the files," Steve said. "They didn't know?

"They didn't know what went through my head except that I was obeying orders."

"Because the Soldier was obeying."

Bucky clenched his fist, bending the whisk into a lopsided L. "Steve, don't. Don't start. Not today." He set the whisk down on the counter. "I get it, okay? You don't like the Soldier. But you can't separate us, I _am_ the Soldier. I am always going to _be_ the Soldier."

"What I saw the Soldier do is _not_ what you would do," Steve hissed, then glanced back over his shoulder through the serving window.

Bucky looked back too; the others seemed locked in conversation. Good. He looked back at Steve. "It is _now,"_ Bucky said. "This is why I told you he loves you as much as I do, because he's _me._ I did that for you. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but I have always been willing to twist my brain into knots for you. Or do you not remember that I became a sniper to protect your stupid ass in the field?"

Steve clearly didn't that much was obvious in the way he stared blankly at Bucky, any anger suddenly replaced by confusion. "You did that for me? Why?"

"Because you felt the need to wear a flag-colored target all over the place," Bucky said. "And don't act like you haven't turned yourself into knots over me. Pepper would be all too happy to remind you how you lied to her and Tony and used them to get my arm fixed and my mouth open to start talking to you and you did it without a second thought, even above my protests that we needed to tell Tony about Howard, first."

"Howard? What happened to Howard?"

Leave it to Steve to grab onto that to avoid the rest of it.

"The Winter Soldier was sent to kill him, Steve," Bucky said. "I didn't want Tony to fix my arm after it got blown by an RPG because of that, because I wasn't ready to go back there, and you took me there anyway and didn't tell either Tony or Pepper. And I trusted you to tell them when you felt you should. They didn't find out for over a year and they found out from the _press._ I know you don't remember any of this, but you did this. So yes, I will do whatever I have to to protect you from whoever I have to, and you do the same, so we can stop bitching at each other over it, mmkay?"

Steve looked down at the half-grated potato in front of him, sitting flat on the grater over a bowl of already shredded potato. "Do you really need my help in here?"

"No, but if you leave, they're gonna know something happened," Bucky said, setting aside the egg mixture to start on the sausage patties. They were frozen, not Bucky's first choice, but that was what had been in the kitchens and Bucky hadn't had enough sausage in his freezer to bring along to make his own after the first couple days. "So just grate the damn potatoes. You can leave once they're done. You can tell the others that I kicked you out of my kitchen."

"Fine." Steve went back to work, taking his frustration out on that potato. Another two shredded quickly. "You gonna fix that whisk?"

The spatula Bucky was using on the sausage almost joined the whisk's fate. "Yes. Get out. Just go. I got this."

"Gone." And he was, very quickly, and Bucky was grateful he stopped at the last second to compose himself. He heard Steve tell the others he was kicked out of 'le chef's kitchen before a chair scraped on the ground. Bucky didn't look, he only assumed that Steve had sat down. He hoped like hell that Steve could keep up that casual manner with the others because not today, goddamnit. There was too much to do.

Not today, not now, not ever, please let this be over. Bucky gripped the counter tightly, just barely catching himself from bending it like he'd done to the work counter in Bruce's main office in the medlab. Deep breath. In. Out.

He let the sausage simmer while he worked on unbending the whisk's handle, slowly and nitpicking about it. Bringing Steve back from Hydra felt like it was harder than coming back himself had been. And he was fighting them again at the same time.

He'd never make it, he'd never do this, he'd go crazy and kill everyone in a murder/suicide pact that only he agreed to.

Not now. Not today.

He went back to the food, starting up the hashbrowns.

Tony, of course, complimented them once they were served, and had the grace to not compare them to Bucky's usuals, which they all knew were much better. The others paid compliments, including Steve, and Bucky was already starting to wonder if he could trust Steve's attempts at normalness after a fight. Was that sarcasm? Was that a lie? Or a strained attempt at telling the truth while still angry?

"So what're the plans, exactly?" Tony said over a mouthful of food. "You guys live here, I'm just here to help with the medlab and the work room."

"How about you and Bucky work on the work room while I take care of my own things?" Bruce said. "Then you can come help me in the medlab while Bucky takes care of his stuff. That gives me a chance to sort what I have instead of leaving them sitting in the atrium. I don't want to stretch myself too thin this time."

Tony nodded his head side to side with a guilty look. "Okay, that's fair. I did overwork you when you left. Okay, Bucky and I will start first."

Bucky rolled his eyes, forcing himself into his usual interactions. "Oh joy. Gonna tell me about the latest cute thing Junior did?"

"I might," Tony said. "You can now share your own, with twenty of the furballs running around and speaking of, do none of them know the definition of the word 'no'?" He glared at the cats gathered around their feet and on other tables.

"Nope," Buck said, taking a bite of eggs. "Told you, Cali has manners, the others not so much." He looked down at his feet. "Speaking of, hello, Cali. You can wait."

Cali adjusted her weight on her front feet and watched him with great interest, but didn't otherwise make any move towards his food or the table or even a chair.

"Good girl."

She was rewarded at the end of the meal.

Maria and Sharon took over the cleaning after breakfast was done, letting the men go to start sorting boxes in the atrium. Seven piles were ultimately made, one for each of the ladies, one for Bruce, one shared by Bucky and Steve, one for the medlab, and the boxes for the work room that Bucky and Tony started hauling up the stairs. Bucky balanced one up on his metal shoulder, another barely gripped under his flesh arm. It was a bigger box, lighter than the other one he was carrying, but wider and harder to keep a grip on. He rode Tony's ass to hurry up the stairs with the third box he was carrying.

"You're cranky today," Tony said after they'd both set down the boxes. "Anything to do with that argument with you had with Cap in the kitchen, or did you wake up grumpy?"

Bucky grabbed one of the boxes and set it up on the main work counter. "You heard it?"

"No, but none of us had to. Cap's still a bad liar, we could tell he was tense. Have you two been fighting lately?"

Bucky studied the box in front of him, trying to bite back the tears of frustration. "Just the first day," he said. "It was just a stressful day, today's a stressful day, it's fine."

"And that's not true," Tony said, pulling the box over and taking a box cutter out of his back pocket. "Come on, talk to me. What's really going on? This have to do with Palestine?"

"Sorta," Bucky admitted, watching Tony with only half interest. "Hydra's in deep. All he can see-" He cut himself off, trying to think where to really start. "He wasn't fully sedated in that operating room. He was just aware enough to see me kill those doctors. I- I wasn't clean and efficient with them."

"Torture?"

"No. Just made sure they felt their deaths instead of being quick. So now all he can see of the Soldier is fear and blood. Then he saw those files."

Tony started setting out piece of equipment to put together. "What, the Winter Soldier files? I thought he already had."

Bucky took the pieces and started putting them back together into familiar form. "He'd forgotten everything in them," he said. "The first day here was the first time he'd seen them since that drug took his memories."

Tony finished emptying that box and broke it down, tossing it to the side of the room. "So he's seeing you too close to Hydra and now he's afraid of you."

"Maybe," Bucky said, pausing and staring down at the vacuum pump still partly in pieces in front of him. "He's certainly getting pissy with me. And I'm doing it right back because I've already paid once for Hydra, I don't see why I have to do it again."

"Because they're back in you, too," Tony said, grabbing the second box. "Might wanna hurry up with that, I have more stuff for you."

Bucky glanced at him, then slid parts and pieces farther away from where Tony was to work on them out of his way. "I know they are. And it's not helping, no. But he's not giving me any chances. He can't separate me from Hydra as long as he has to accept that I'm the Soldier." He frowned, pausing with a hose in a stilled hand. "That's how he acts, anyway. If I can still read him, that's what he's doing, but I guess I realize I don't know if I'm reading him right."

Tony stepped over and put his hand on Bucky's flesh shoulder. "This is why you have Bruce and the girls," he said. "If you have to, let them work on getting Hydra out of you. I know you don't like us seeing them, but that's why I sent them with you guys. To help you. We all knew that you're the only one that can help Steve, but you can't do a damn thing if you're left to deal with it on your own. You two are sharing a room, I assume?"

When Bucky nodded, Tony continued. "Spend a night with Maria if you haven't already. Get Sharon to make Steve play that game now that your Wii U is here. It'll hook up in to the TV in the lounge just fine. Have Bruce working on medicine up here for Steve. Just get some time away. I know you don't like being alone, so don't be. You have Maria, and the other two will keep Steve distracted for you. You'd be surprised how much it helps stress levels just spending some time with your lady."

With a sigh, Bucky went back to work. "I can't. First night, I gave Steve a chance to have the room to himself. He said it's worse at night, and he's right, it is."

"So don't leave him at night," Tony said. "I know, you think you have to be with him all the time to make everything better, but just spend a day with Maria. Don't worry about cooking for the others, they're big kids, they can do it just fine themselves. Cook for you and Maria, take it up to her room, eat up there. Keep to yourselves. You can be there for Steve at bedtime, just spend a day away from each other." He pointed his box cutter at Bucky. "You need to destress. And he probably does too."

Bucky turned his head to look at him. "You sure like to talk a lot."

Tony grinned. "And that's you saying that I'm right. So, back to work, and after everything's unpacked, take a day off and spend it with Maria."

"I'll talk to her about it."

"You think she'll say no?" Tony sounded about ready to scold Bucky for not having enough faith in her.

"That's not it, I'm just not going to spring a surprise destressing day on her," Bucky said. "I might catch her in a bad mood and that'd just defeat the purpose."

"Okay, yeah, don't do that. But seriously, talk to her. If someone has to explain it to Steve, have her do it, or she can have Sharon or Bruce do it. But talk. To. Her."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "I already said I will." He finished putting together the pump, then turned to the next set of parts Tony had laid out for him. "Now shut up and let's get this place set up."


	6. Of Our Own Device

The lounge was where most of Steve and Bucky's things ended up, sketchbooks and the Dresden Files books on one of the bookcases. Steve kept a couple of the sketchbooks back in their room, to no surprise on Bucky's part, and Bucky kept his primary notebook to himself. He left some that hadn't seen the light of day in ages, and weren't likely to be snooped into if they weren't in his room, on the bottom shelf, next to Steve's sketchbooks. His tools went up to the work room.

The boxes with the rest of Steve's art supplies found its way to the cafeteria, where he'd have better lighting and tables to work at with this table easel. It was an odd place for art supplies, but there was more than enough room, and the supplies would be repacked into a cat-proof bin once Sharon went out to see what was in town or in the next biggest city.

For now, they sat in boxes stacked in the nearest corner that didn't lead to the kitchen.

Bruce's text books took up the entire second book case in the lounge, and he apologized profusely for it and got told repeatedly not to worry about it. Maria's mysteries and Sharon's romances fit just fine on the book case with Bucky's books, with room to spare for them to continue collecting.

"And if more space is needed, we can get another book case," Maria pointed out. "It's fine."

"Okay, while I have everyone in one room," Tony said after helping Bruce with the last of the text books, more meant for the medlab or work room than the lounge, "we have some locks to program."

Steve put the last of his own handful of books away and looked over at Tony. "Which room should we start with?"

"The one across the hall," Tony said, standing. "That's the easiest one, it's just codes. I have to reprogram the ones on the uniform storages to be yours instead of the others, and I think I'm gonna have to figure out how to expand that." He glanced down the hall. "There's more Avengers now." He was quiet a moment, then shook himself out of that thought. "Anyway, come on."

The code to get in was easy, and Bucky immediately memorized it. He had a feeling none of them would be forgetting it any day soon, not with their collective good memories. (Steve's amnesia problems aside.)

Inside were five displays with code pads underneath them. "One for all the original Avengers except Bruce." Tony glanced back at Bruce, "Sorry, but you don't have a uniform."

Bruce shrugged it off. "I know."

Tony pointed to the far one. "Cap, that's yours. I figured since you were the one to make the strategy calls in New York, I'd be nice and count you as Avenger Prime. There's one for Thor to store his hammer and armor in so he can wear some normal clothes around the place. That one's for my case and some tools to repair damage, nobody gets that one." He pointed to the two closest to the door. "Clint and Natasha. Since they're not here, theirs gets repossessed for your uniforms. Just leave mine for me, the rest belong to you guys. Save some room in your closets for regular clothes."

"And the codes for those?" Maria asked.

"Resetting them now," Tony said, walking up to the first display and fiddling around with the key pad. "I know it's not the most secure, but I'm using the last four of your social security numbers. That can be changed." He plugged in his computer stick to a tab under the key pad. "Sharon, you're taking Natasha's. Maria, I'll give you Clint's. Bucky, you've got Thor's."

Bucky blinked, looking up at Steve. "I don't even remember my social security number."

Tony slowly turned his head to look at Bucky. "You _are_ young enough to have one, right?"

Bucky frowned. "Yes. The system went into effect the year I graduated college. I got one when I came back home to Brooklyn. It was just never really used for anything but military registration and that was once. I never had to memorize it. I only know it's still active because Sharon's CIA team went in and reactivated all my identifying information."

"Well, once I get to your spot, I'll have the computer tell me what that is for you." He fiddled around a moment longer with Sharon's case before detaching his programming stick. "There you go, one display for your lovely uniform, Miss Carter."

Charming, Tony.

Sharon looked at Maria. "We should go get our uniforms unpacked and put away, just to get it out of the way while we're up here."

"Agreed," Maria said. She looked back at Steve. "Since Bucky has to stay here and find out his social security number, why don't you go get your uniform to put away? And grab Bucky's while you're at it?"

"I would anyway," Steve said, following the girls out.

That left the Three Science Stooges in the room. Tony was busy plugging in new numbers and Bruce was examining the displays. That left Bucky with nothing to do but stand around awkwardly and wait.

"These look like what we saw on the helicarrier," Bruce said. "Steve's uniform was in one."

"That's what inspired me, my geeky friend," Tony said. He moved on from Maria's new storage unit to Thor's. "Okay, Bucky, come over here. As soon as the program's in, I'm going to give you your code." He looked at Bucky. "You really don't know your social security number?"

Bucky shook his head. "Like I said, I had to use it all of once after the program started. That was a damn long time ago."

"Not at all since coming back into the public light?"

Bucky's gaze rolled off to the side as he ran through his memory. He had a good memory, now that things were back, but this one just wasn't in there. "If I did, I don't remember it. I don't have any credit cards, the car's in Steve's name, the bank account's in Steve's- wait." There it was. "Yeah, I did have to use it to put my name on our account." He frowned. "I think the last four were four zero one three?"

"Bingo," Tony said. "At least according to this computer. I don't make a point of memorizing other people's social security numbers, but your records are at the Tower, since you're an employee. Pepper and I bypassed the application process for you, so yeah, I guess you didn't use it to start earning a paycheck from us." He tapped his finger on the computer stick a couple times. "Aaaand done." He removed the stick from the slot under the keypad. "Once Cap gets up here with your uniform, you can put it away."

"Then the computers?" Bruce asked. "I think we'd all like access to that more than this room."

Tony gave him a look. "Oh sure, now that I've done the work of reprogramming things in here, this room isn't good enough."

Bruce gave Tony a benign smile. "Yes, well, we're likely to have little reason to use our uniforms. But the computers might be nice."

"Fine, you win this round, Banner." He glanced at Bucky. "Mind if I talk to him about earlier?"

Bucky stared at him blankly, mind racing to figure out what it was that Tony was even asking before his wheel hamster clicked on the light for him. "Oh. Why?"

"Your blood pressure, mostly," Tony said. "And I won't be here to help, he will."

Bruce looked between them. "I'd ask what this is, but it sounds like it's confidential until otherwise said."

Bucky huffed in frustration. "Fine, tell him, I don't care. It's not like it won't become obvious if it doesn't stop."

"You think it won't?" Tony said, raising an eyebrow.

"You think it will?" Bucky replied, then looked at the very confused Bruce. "Steve and I have had a couple arguments over Hydra. We're brothers, it happens. I don't think you need to worry about our blood pressures, but I guess you should know when it's best to hide in the bunker instead of getting in between us."

"Oh, is that all?" Bruce asked and Bucky's jaw dropped and he came perilously close to hitting him. "We expect that, Bucky. Hydra didn't exactly fill you two with bunnies and butterflies. That's why you have us."

"Told you," Tony said.

"Shut up, Tony," Bucky said, rubbing his forehead. "Look, the others will be back soon, can we please drop this? Steve doesn't need to know we're having this conversation."

"Conversation?" Bruce said, looking just as confused as before. "What conversation? We're just discussing the mechanics of this computer program stick of Tony's."

"Good man," Tony said. "But it's just a copy of JARVIS. No secret."

Bucky was grateful to his friends for dropping the subject and really, Tony? Letting JARVIS do all the work? Lazy bastard.

After the others had returned with uniforms, Steve simply bringing their bag up and letting Bucky put his own uniform and weapons away- Bucky wanted to keep one of his Yari IIs, but he was told no, so he put them both with the uniform -Tony directed them up the circular stairs to the watch tower.

Reprogramming that lock was a bit more involved, having to program in new handprint records. Bucky's metal hand proved most difficult, as JARVIS had to override the lock's programming to recognize the specifics of the metal over the arrangement of the metal plates themselves.

"Here we go, ladies and gentlemen," Tony said, leading them on once the handprint recognitions were done. "The Avengers central computer hub."

The room had computer stations circling the entire room, only the door and a small space of wall on either side of the door way left uncovered with technology.

"Meant to keep surveillance on the grounds, which I will unlock that station for you," Tony continued. "Also holds old school and town records, though all of the town records are out of date and you don't get updates."

"Why not?" Steve asked.

"No outside contact," Tony said. "But the old stuff's still here, should give you an idea of what all is around the area. Over there-" he motioned to computers are the far side of the room from the door, "-is the communications computer. Only Junior can be contacted by it, but it'll be easier to get to than her onboard computers on the quinjet. Good for coordinating efforts, not that I think you'll need to. The school's quiet, except these cats apparently."

"We're already used to them," Maria said.

"It's only been four days."

"You get used to strange things quickly, or you go mad. We chose to get used to the cats."

Tony looked skyward as he thought about that. "Okay, good point. Anyway, Junior's going to keep you guys from getting messages out except through her, but other than that, you can get into anything in here that you want. I'll make a quick stop at the quinjet to add in programming for her to unlock everything up here. Now, the outside building, yes?"

The back building was the same routine with the handprint identification. Inside was a training area, just like they were told. It was better than the one at the Tower, bigger and had room for weapons ranges, for Clint's archery, and anyone's guns, Steve's shield, Bucky's knives, things the Tower couldn't have due to size and location restrictions.

Good. Bucky liked that set up.

The locked areas open, everyone went back to their own unpacking. Bruce dragged Tony down to the medlab, although he still had a couple boxes of personal things in the atrium when he did so. Bucky offered to take them up to his room, and was given a thank you with a relieved look.

They weren't done until after nine at night and everyone- particularly Tony -was exhausted. Retreating to the lounge to unwind before showers and bed was an unspoken agreement as one by one, they trickled in. Sharon and Maria had beaten the men there, although Steve wasn't far behind. Bucky and Bruce dragged themselves not long afterwards.

Bucky stared down at Sharon, who was stretched out on the couch and staring at the TV blankly. The TV wasn't on. "Care to sit up so we can sit down?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "Bruce can sit down. You can go sit with Maria."

Maria was in a chair not big enough for two people. Bucky pointed this out and got met with a "make her sit on your lap, I'm not sitting all the way up. I'm tired."

"We all are," Bucky grumbled at her, but he went over to Maria. "So I'm told I get to be a new chair for you."

Maria gave him a weary smile, then stood and motioned to the seat. "You're lucky you have a comfortable lap."

Bucky settled himself in the chair, then let Maria get settled on his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder, and she was so limp in his arms that he thought she might fall asleep there. There were worse ways to nap, but his legs would go numb sooner or later.

Steve was watching them with a distant sort of look, and Bucky directed that gaze towards Sharon. "You know, the Wii U is hooked up, you two could entertain us mindlessly for a little while."

"No dice," Tony said, finally joining them. He was carrying a serving tray with bottles and glasses. "I knew we'd all want a drink after a hard day's work, so lucky for everyone, I came prepared." He set the tray on the table. "A bottle of apple ale for Bruce, a wine cooler- low proof and very fruity -for Sharon, seltzer water for Maria, and seriously, one of these days you're gonna have a day worthy of even you having a drink." He passed out the individual bottles, then grabbed three glasses out of the crate and set them on the table. "And vanilla vodka for the rest of us. I'd make screwdrivers, but that'd mean taking the OJ up here, then back down to the kitchen so it doesn't get warm. That sounded like it'd be a lot of work."

Bucky took his glass. "It's too bad this doesn't actually do anything for me," he said, taking a drink that was grateful nonetheless. "I think passing out sounds good right now."

Sharon was forced to sit up to drink her wine cooler and let Tony have a seat. "So why can't we play our game? Not that I'm awake enough to."

"Because it's almost time for the news, and Pepper's supposed to be on, covering for your absence. I thought you might appreciate seeing what she has to say."

"Are you sure she'll be on the local news?" Bucky asked, not really believing that.

Tony shook his head. "Junior's your antenna. Nobody's gonna pick up her receiving TV signals anymore than any other antenna. But she's more powerful and right now, she's sneaking in information from satellites, so for the moment, you're getting more channels, including more news channels." He glanced at Bucky. "You're going to have to just deal that you can't get this after I leave."

"I'll live," Bucky said. "But I expect updates on the situation in Israel if you guys deploy."

"Oh, we will be, and you'll probably see us in the news often enough, even the local news," Tony said. "And Pepper can contact Junior if any major development happens that the news doesn't hear about." Tony set his drink on the table and and stretched, then grabbed the TV remote and turned on the TV, flipping around until he found a proper news station. "And now, we sit back and wait."

The talking heads were already discussing Pepper's upcoming press release regarding Israel and the dumped information. Bucky couldn't really pay attention, his legs starting to go numb. He patted Maria's hip. "Up, you. I can't feel my feet anymore."

She gave him a properly unamused look. "'Up you'? I don't even get a name?" But she got up anyway, freeing his legs to that tingly feeling of blood starting to rush through his veins again.

"I'm leaving you a warm chair," he said, setting his drink down and going to the opposite side of the room to rescue another chair.

"Acceptable." She took her spot back, slouching and stretching her legs out. She didn't look like she was going to be able to stay curled up on his lap much longer either.

Once settled in his own chair- cold chair, Maria was lucky he gave the warm one back to her -he actually tuned in to the babbling idiots- oh, no, sorry, news anchors -on the TV.

"-second time there has been a major reveal regarding Hydra's continued existence," a woman who the news bytes scrolling on the screen named as Jamie said. "The first time was in SHIELD, America's primary intelligence and security operation. This was done by Captain America and a handful of cohorts, largely unknown at the time, except perhaps Natasha Romanov, known better as Black Widow. There are questions now about if Captain America or any of the others responsible for the SHIELD reveal are connected to this latest uncovering in Israel's government."

The man sitting next to her, identified as Bill, took over the monologue. Bucky was sure after that, they'd start speculating at each other or bring in some outside 'expert' to discuss the subject until it was time for Pepper to field questions. "The Avengers have remained a team, backed by Stark Industries, since their first formation in the attack on New York City by an unidentified alien race. Another Avengers member was seen as part of the attack on Greenwich in Britain three years ago. People are starting to wonder how safe the world is with the Avengers around."

Jamie took over. "Agent Romanov, in an inquiry on Capitol Hill, agreed that the Avengers help make the world, as she put it, a 'scary place', but contended that they were the group best equipped to protect it. Now, whether this is true or not remains to be seen."

Finally, the monologues of history that everyone watching the channel should've already known ended, the two news anchors turning to each other to make it a conversation. Up in the corner was a small image of a podium with the Avengers emblem on it- when the hell did she and Tony make that?

"That must be at Stark Tower?" Bucky said, looking at Tony. "I didn't realize we had an official Avengers news room."

Tony glanced at him. "Well, we haven't found too much trouble as a group, bits and pieces on our own, although you two are the worst offenders, but yeah, we saw the fallout from New York, and SHIELD, and realized the Avengers were going to have to send out official statements on our business now and again. That logo is removable. We have a Stark Industries logo that can get switched out. It's not the most high tech set up in the world, but it was better than having two different rooms for issuing statements about one or the other."

"-it looks like Pepper Potts has become the Avengers spokeswoman," Jamie said.

"It seems that way," Bill agreed with the complete obvious. "With Tony Stark retired from the company and Miss Potts as the new CEO, she seems the best choice to be their mouthpiece. Her company is the one backing them, her company should answer for them. The Avengers themselves seem scattered. Captain America off with the Winter Soldier on mercenary jobs, a profession that I don't think anyone saw Captain America in, Thor seems busy with London, and the others seem off the radar somewhere. To some, that's worrisome."

"I don't blame anybody," Jamie said. "There's usually something terrible happening when one of them shows up in the news, and a fight ensues that leaves hundreds of thousands- if not millions -of dollars in property damage."

"You know, I gotta give them credit though," Bill said, "any damage they do, they always manage to avoid civilian casualties."

Sharon rested her head on the back of the couch. "Oh god, when is Pepper coming on? I am sick of these two already. Who doesn't know this by now?"

Tony reached over and patted Sharon's shoulder. "They have to fill the time somehow. Relax, Pepper should be on any time now."

Bucky closed his eyes and tuned Jamie and Bill out, sipping the last of his drink.

"-and it looks like Miss Potts has finally appeared to to give her statement and hopefully answer some questions," Jamie's voice said. Bucky cracked an eye open to make sure they weren't lying to him, and seeing the small screen of the conference room grow to take over the screen and Pepper appearing from behind a curtain, he sat up a bit and opened his other eye.

Pepper looked good, wearing a white dress suit with a pin of the Avengers logo on her left jacket lapel. Wow, she and Tony had practically franchised the Avengers. As if being on merchandise wasn't weird enough.

While cameras flashed and the murmurs of the news reporters talking to their camera men died off, Pepper tapped some cards on the podium, realigning them into a nice stack. She finally looked up at the various cameras. "We at Stark Industries, as backers of the Avengers, have been asked to issue a statement regarding the revelation of Hydra in Israel's government. We have been asked if any of our people were involved in this acquisition of information and subsequent release. To answer simply, yes, the Avengers take responsibility for both."

She slid a card to to the back, studying the second before looking up. "Hydra is a mission that has belonged to the Avengers since the first of us began to fight them during World War II. We continue in that mission today. Captain America and his partner, the Winter Soldier, have hunted them down largely in our stead, but this time involved more of us. They were first called to Palestine by Hydra agents within the Israeli government as a trap. Captain Rogers and Mister Barnes responded, backed up by three members of the Avengers that were here at the time. While the mission to Palestine was a trap, our people were successful in gathering intelligence and retreating before major harm could be done to more potential victims. The information we have released to the public reveals that the Hydra base in Palestine was a laboratory where human experimentation was done. Countless innocent lives have been saved from these experiments."

Another card flip. "Most of this should not be news, as nearly all of this information is now readily available on the internet. My job today is to confirm our involvement. Hydra was and remains a threat to the Israeli government, and we will put all our available forces into helping find this threat and eliminating it before it can endanger Israel's borders and its leadership. We are committed to assisting in the fight against Hydra in whatever capacity we can."

She set the cards down and folded her hands on the podium. "I will take questions now."

There was a massive clamoring as several reporters tried to ask questions at once, but Pepper singled out one and the din quieted for the woman reporter. "Jessica Soll from the Daily Globe," she said and Bucky nearly had an aneurysm. "Will we be seeing Captain America and the Winter Soldier at all? The dumped information didn't include details of the mission in Palestine."

"Hey, isn't that the reporter that did that article on you two?" Tony asked.

"Yes, now shut up." Bucky said, trying to listen to Pepper's answer.

Fortunately, Pepper had hesitated, not noticeably, but she'd paused before answering, so Bucky hadn't missed anything. "Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes received some injuries in the field," she said. "They are currently on medical watch. I'm certain they will return to work before this is done As for details of the mission, those remain classified."

More clamoring, and Pepper pointed out another reporter. "Why are these details remaining classified? What does a public superhero group need classified information for? Aren't they supposed to be for the people?"

Pepper took what amounted to an accusation with stunning grace. "We don't give out specifics of our tactics where our enemies might find them for the safety of our team members, just like any other security force that keeps details quiet."

"So we're on medical watch?" Steve asked, sounding derisive of that explanation. "Is that what this is?"

"Would you rather she have said that we're in hiding because Hydra fucked us up in the head?" Bucky said. "She did fine. She's right, we're on medical watch. Our brains got screwed with by drugs, tell me how that's not a medical condition."

Steve didn't answer, just took a drink of his vodka and held it in Tony's direction. "Tell me there's more of that."

Tony stared at the out held glass like it was insulting his mother. "There is, but you can get it yourself. I already was nice once this evening."

Steve made a grumbly noise that might've been trying to be words, but he got up and poured his own drink, being careful to not get in between Bruce or Tony and their view of the TV. Pepper was still answering some questions, but they were far more general, whether the American government had contracted them for the info dump, or if the Israeli government had. If there was there some third party country wanting to take over the investigation to avoid American bias or remaining Hydra presence in the American government making things more difficult. There were others, and Pepper handled each one smoothly and with class.

"Gotta admit," Bucky said, "Tony, you picked a good one."

Tony puffed out his chest. "I did, didn't I?"

"Are you saying she didn't pick you?" Sharon said, setting down her empty bottle on the table in front of her.

Tony unpuffed a bit. "There was some mutual picking. So we both have good taste."

"Humility is not your strong suit."

Tony gave her a sidelong look. "You have clearly not been part of the Avengers long enough to get to know me if you have to say that."

"I can't be restating for the record?" she said with a grin best suited on the little sister she was rapidly becoming to the group. Even though Bucky was pretty sure she wasn't the youngest of the Avengers. She was a couple physical years older than him, he thought. Not that that mattered, given how much of a smartass old man he sometimes was.

Damn kids, get off my lawn.

Once Pepper had decided she'd answered enough questions and disappeared back behind the curtain, the talking heads known as Jamie and Bill went back to taking up the screen, discussing what Pepper just said as if talking for people who hadn't just sat there and listened. News channels could be so tedious. Bucky vastly preferred being able to read articles online. They weren't as redundant.

"Okay." Tony managed to get up off the low sitting couch that looked like it ate the butt of anyone who sat in it, much like the rest of the lounge furniture. The cat that had been sitting behind his head on the back of the couch stretched and yawned, then hopped down into his abandoned spot. Tony didn't pay it any mind. "You guys can keep the vodka, I need to get home. I have a lady that's going to be waiting for me, and I am officially tired. You guys gave me a long day."

"Don't you blame us," Bucky said, getting up. "You're the one that told us we didn't get to stay at the Tower."

"And you know why."

"Still your decision."

Tony scowled at him. "So I'm going to be blamed now?"

"Bucky, your mouth is making noises again," Maria said. "You're tired, let's see Tony off safely, and make Steve drag you to bed."

"Wouldn't take much," Steve said, getting up at stretching. "When he gets tired, you just gotta grab him by the wrist and he'll follow like a dog on a leash."

"Can it, Rogers."

Tony patted his shoulder. "You're a grumpy old fart when you're tired," he said, Tony's unique way of offering subtle forgiveness for a slight. Bucky really shouldn't have gotten snippy with him.

"I _am_ a grumpy old fart," Bucky protested, rubbing his face with his hand. "Come on, you need to get home. Pepper's gonna worry."

Glasses and bottles abandoned for the moment, the group escorted Tony back down to the atrium where his Iron Man suit was already assembled and waiting for him. The front opened up like some odd sarcophagus and Tony stepped back into it. It wrapped around him like a sleeping bag zipping up before the face panel slammed down.

Tony stopped once they were outside, waiting for him to fly off. He looked back at them. "Seriously, are you guys going to be all right? I can have more stuff sent in."

"We'll be fine," Bucky said. "Go on, before JARVIS has to pilot for you because you've fallen asleep at the wheel."

Tony tapped the side of his helmet. "Best designated driver I could ask for. Have Junior contact me if there's an emergency."

With that, his boosters powered up and he took off into the night sky.

They watched him go until he was a tiny dot that could've been a star in the distant sky. Bucky glanced down at the ground, then over at his team. "That's it. We're stuck here now."

"We'll survive," Maria said, wrapping an arm around his. "And you should go to bed. Steve, come grab his wrist."

Steve stepped over and put a hand on Bucky's back. "Come on, let's get some sleep."

Bucky didn't argue, turning back towards the mansion. He looked up at it for a moment, then let himself be led inside.


	7. Electricity

"So what've we got here?" Bucky asked, staring over their equipment on the work counter. He and Bruce had finally organized them, a few days later, and now that they were about to work, it suddenly felt like Bucky wasn't sure where to start.

Bruce twisted his laptop's screen around to sit flat in front of them, then pulled up a 3D display showing off the last PET scan of Steve's brain. "A mess," he replied. "This was taken with the drug still in his system. The problem is, I can't tell if that activity was caused by hyper-exciting a brain function, or inhibiting it."

"So we need a drug that would theoretically do either/or, depending on what it finds."

"Assuming his brain is still doing this, yes," Bruce answered, twisting the image around to view from another angle. "I wish I'd been able to get a post-detox scan. There's undoubtedly withdrawal going on in his brain, or at least was. It's been a week now, any unusual activity associated to that might've stopped by now, too."

Bucky rested his elbows on the work counter and folded his hands on the back of his neck. "But there's no physical damage to account for the amnesia."

"And I have no ongoing scans of your brain from the last two years to form a hypothesis with," Bruce said. "So we might actually be wasting our time up here."

"I'm not going to believe that," Bucky said, lifting his head, but not dropping his hands. He turned his head to look at Bruce. "Something's still wrong in his head, and we have to at least try to come up with something. I owe him as much."

Bruce took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know. I know. But we're going to be playing with his brain chemistry. I'm nervous about that."

"And yet you made us high-powered Ritalin," Bucky said. "A psychostimulant. And you give me Ativan."

That got a reluctant agreement from Bruce. "I know. But those are tested medicines. We're going into completely new territory. We're not building on existing medical knowledge." He sighed and put his glasses back on, looking at the scan again. "Well, I suppose we could try your idea of an either/or drug, maybe find something already existing to build off of."

"What about dopamine?" Bucky asked.

Bruce shook his head. "Wouldn't get past the brain-blood barrier." He sighed, staring at the scan. "I know we want to bring his memory back faster, but we might have to treat it like retrograde amnesia and just keep trying to jog his memory the old fashioned way. Just keep telling him stories, showing him things. I had Tony upload a copy of the old USO and war footage into Junior, we could get them plugged into this computer for him to watch. That'd at least get the war stuff back in his head."

"What about more recent things?"

"I took a page from the Smithsonian's book and have news reports of New York and your jobs in Junior's memory banks, too. That's not going to help with personal stuff, but it might open the door for those memories."

Bucky rested his forehead on the counter. "Okay, new question then. How do we get him to stop remembering that lab like it's fresh every day? I know that takes time normally, but there's gotta be _something_ to help that. It's causing fights and I'm getting sick of it. I can't help him because he still associates me with that."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bruce reaching towards him, probably to pat him on the shoulder, when a bolt of electricity shot between them, distorting the brain scan image into random pixels and sending both of them scrambling back, down on to the ground and back against the wall on either side of the doorway.

"What the fuck was that?!" Bucky demanded, the hair on his arm and the back of his neck standing on end from the electric charge.

"I don't know!" Bruce carefully looked around the corner, as if the bolt had maybe come from that direction- Bucky hadn't been looking up enough to see if it was -and then frowned. Bucky glanced around in time to see another zap hit the far wall of the hallway, followed by a bright glow of light that one of the cats was chasing down the hall.

Bucky stuck his head out of the doorway, watching the cat and the glowing ball. It flared and dispersed, sending more electricity flying and Bucky felt the edge of his hair get singed as he jerked back. He pulled back fully into the room and pressed his back against the wall, breathing hard. "Was that ball lightning _inside_ the building?"

"Looked like it," Bruce said, hands shaking. "Okay, so we have something more pressing to look into. Whether those cats can kill us or not."

Bucky looked up at the display. It was back to normal. "They don't seem able to do permanent damage with that," he said, pointing up at the computer. "Shouldn't that have stayed scrambled?"

Bruce got up, fumbling with his glasses, and stepped over to the counter. He tapped around on the screen, twisting the 3D display around. "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong. It's like nothing happened." He looked back at Bucky, who'd stayed on the floor. "I'd want to run a diagnostics to be sure, but it looks like it's working fine."

"Maybe because it's not natural lightning?" Bucky suggested, then positioned himself to stand.

"Bucky, may I-" Maria's voice came from the hall and cut itself off as she stopped in the doorway. She was studying him, blinking a few times in confusion. "What're you doing on the floor?"

"Hiding," Bucky said, then got to his feet. "The cats were chasing a ball of lightning."

Maria's head shook once in the briefest of double-takes. "Explain?" Her questioning tone lilted up at the end to almost a comical level.

Bruce barely looked back at her, still messing with his computer. "There was lightning in here, then one of the cats was chasing a ball of it. It seems our cats are either something other than ghosts, or ghosts are capable of repairing damage they do, because there was a bolt that hit the display and now nothing seems to be wrong with the computer."

"Why would we assume ghosts have capabilities over electricity?" she asked, stepping in and following Bucky to where Bruce was running a scan on his computer.

"Maybe the fire was electric like the authorities reported," Bucky said. "If whatever they are can do the whole 'reversing damage' thing like they seemed to have done with the computer, that could be why the wiring seemed fine when Tony set up the arc reactor."

"And when we investigated," Maria added. "We should tell the others to be careful of the cats. Figuring out what they are wouldn't hurt. But before that, Bruce, can I borrow Bucky for a few minutes? I'll give him back."

Bruce waved his hand. "Go ahead. I'm going to keep running some scans, make sure there's no damage." He shook his head, mumbling how weird it was under his breath. Bucky fully agreed, but Maria had his attention, so he followed her out into the hall, sidestepping the cats that'd been chasing that lightning and halfway up the stairs to the computer room.

"What's up?" he asked, putting one hand on the railing to keep himself balanced.

"Tony mentioned you had an idea for me." She raised an eyebrow. "Or was it Tony's idea?"

"Tony's," Bucky said, knowing exactly what she was talking about, then sighed, running his free hand over his face. "The fights with Steve are kinda coming and going and it's getting exhausting. I'm so focused on getting him out of Hydra that..." He shrugged awkwardly. "Honestly, I didn't think of it, but he recommended taking a day away from Steve occasionally and just spending time with you, if you're up for it."

That earned him one of her small but genuine smiles that was like sitting in the sunlight, warm and bright. "You know I am," she said. "You didn't think of this yourself?"

He felt embarrassed. "No- well, I would've. But I hadn't yet." He shrugged. "I guess I'm just so focused on Steve and getting all of us home. None of us like it here, I want us all home. I want things to go back to normal. I'm afraid to leave him alone at night. He gets awful nightmares."

Maria ran a hand over his cheek. "We don't have to wait until night to spend some time with each other."

He rested his hand on hers. "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't neglect you in this. I'm not being a very good boyfriend right now."

She leaned down from her perch on a higher step and kissed him. "I think you're doing fine. You're focusing on what it takes to get us all- including me- back to where we're happiest." She straightened. "Would you like to spend that time now, or should we gather the others to discuss the cats? As much as I'd like the time with you, the cats might present a danger that we should assess."

The cats should come first, he knew that. But he grabbed her wrist anyway, guiding her down the stairs to the wall near the the doorway. He backed against the wall, pulling her tight against him and kissed her, parting his lips against hers, breathing her scent in deeply; gun oil and sweet drinks that she refused to give up, even with the healthier diet he's gotten her on.

Maria smiled against the kiss. "I missed this," she whispered against his lips.

Bucky rested his forehead against hers. "I did too. I'm not going to neglect you anymore. We have a different mission now, we don't have to focus only on preparing to go kill bad people. We can focus on the good people."

She drew her head back. "We don't have to do anything intimate, we can stay around the others, but we can spend that time together today. Up in the lounge, grab the couch before Steve and Sharon, just be in contact. I miss this. I miss _you."_

He pulled her into the tightest hug he dared give her, knowing that he could crack ribs if he wasn't careful. She rested her head on his metal shoulder. "I've missed you," he said, just a decibel over a whisper. "I've missed all my friends. I went into mission mindset and forgot everyone." He nuzzled the side of her face. "Cats first, then if we decide it's safe, lounge. Promise."

She hummed happily against his shoulder. "Holding you to that. But for tomorrow, may I make a suggestion to you and Bruce?"

He tilted his head to look down at her. "What's that?"

"Bruce probably has never worked with amnesiac patients, but I've had agents with psychogenic amnesia. It's similar to PTSD memory. You might want to treat Steve's difficulties with the memories of the lab that way."

That got his attention, enough to loosen his grip on her, hoping she'd take the hint and look up at him. "You know how to treat that?"

"Mm." She shook her head at a sideways tilt. "Yes and no. I've never done it myself, but I've heard from psychiatrists on the job when asking for status updates. But I know that beta blockers and regular re-exposure to the traumatizing event will help relegate it to the past instead of being so fresh. I don't know what kind of medicine a beta blocker is, but it's something to consider, especially if there's nothing else we can do for his memory loss."

He glanced back towards the doorway, almost tempted to get back to work, but he'd promised her. Cats first, because they could pose a threat to his family, although he wasn't sure how to combat that threat, then time with her. He could mention it to Bruce to look into on his own while Bucky spent time with Maria. It wasn't his first inclination, but he promised, and making himself focus on how good that time would feel pushed aside his addiction to work. He could trust Bruce to come up with something on his own.

"I'll mention it on the way to the cafeteria," he said. "We'll gather the others there. More room for us all to sit."

"And the cats congregate there," she said. "We can try testing something if anything comes to mind."

"That too," he said. He took her hand and stepped away from the wall, taking her with him. "Come on, let's get Bruce first. Then we'll see if the other two have their comms on, or if we have to track them down the old fashioned way."

She gripped his hand tightly enough that he felt the biomechtium shift slightly. "I think they're in the cafeteria already, actually. Steve was playing with his paints."

"Nice and easy." He popped his head back into the work room where Bruce was still looking at his computer. "Hey, Bruce, team meeting in the cafeteria about our electricity throwing cats."

Bruce looked back at him, blinking behind his glasses as if he hadn't registered a word of that. "Oh. Okay. I'll take the computer with me."

Maria looked around Bucky. "Something I suggested to Bucky, try to find a beta blocker to help Steve with the laboratory memories. I've seen that sort of reaction to traumatizing memories before."

Bruce blinked a few times again, then looked down at his computer. "Should I start that instead of worrying about the cats?"

"Cats first," Bucky said. "They could be a threat. If so, we need a new hiding place. Besides, Tony wanted readings on the furry little bastards. This is a good time to study them."

Bruce nodded, picking up his computer. "Lead the way then." He barely looked up from his computer at first, then glanced up. "I should stop looking at this, shouldn't I?"

Maria smiled. "Might make it easier to watch where you're going. Especially down the stairs."

"Right." Bruce tucked the computer under his arm. "Lead the way."

Maria was right, Steve was already in the cafeteria, painting the calico cat that normally was following Bucky; she was sitting on the table in front of him in perfect pose, as if she knew her portrait was being painted. Sharon was sitting at the table next to Steve, reading one of her books.

She was the only one that looked up when the others came in. "Is it dinner time already?" she asked, setting her book down, taking great care to not jostle the table.

That prompted Steve to look back. "Looks more like group discussion time," he said, then went back to work. "Just don't move the table."

"Or the cat," Bucky noted. He sat down next to Steve, Maria joining him, still holding his hand. "Be careful of her."

That got Steve to pause and look past his easel at him. "Why?"

"The cats seem to attract unusual electric phenomenon," Bruce said, taking a seat on the other side of the table and laying his computer down on the table. The table stayed steady.

Steve and Sharon exchanged a look, then Steve looked around his canvas at Cali. "What did you do?" he demanded of her.

"Her?" Bucky said. "Other than going through walls, nothing to my knowledge. But we watched one of the other cats chasing ball lightning down the hall. A bolt hit the computer."

"Just the display," Bruce said, once again distracted with his scans. "Nothing seems wrong with it, though."

Steve set his brush down on his pallet. "We're sure it was them?"

Bucky rested one elbow on the table, reaching out to pet Cali, who refused to move, but started looking at Steve like she was wondering why he'd stopped painting. "The cat we saw didn't seem affected by it, and I don't know what else would cause lightning inside without frying the little guy from the heat."

"But the computer that got hit is just fine?" Sharon asked. At Bruce's very distracted confirmation, she looked over at Steve and Bucky. "Then probably supernatural. Unless we have something other than the cats haunting the place, it's safest to assume they're responsible."

Steve caught the look from Cali he was getting and picked his paintbrush back up. "Are we sure they're ghosts, then?" he asked. "I didn't realize ghosts had control of electricity."

"We thought of that," Maria said. "If they're not ghosts, I have no idea what they are. If they are, then they can repair damage their electricity does."

Sharon propped her face on both fists, staring at Cali. "What are you, besides a pretty cat?"

Cali didn't move, but blinked slowly in response.

"Someone who wants her portrait finished," Bucky said. "But other than that, I dunno. I've only had one run in with the supernatural and I was told that was a ghost. I don't know what other kind of supernatural thing they could be." He looked at Bruce. "Tony mentioned wanting information on these guys. We should make up something that can take electromagnetic readings."

"We'll work on that," Bruce said, pushing his computer aside. "After I investigate that stuff Maria mentioned."

"Stuff?" Steve asked, not looking away from his work. "I worry when you two say you're working on 'stuff' without being specific."

"Medicine for you," Bruce said.

Steve paused again and looked around his canvas. "Weren't you already doing that? What does Maria have to do with it?"

"We can't even begin to figure out something to help with the amnesia," Bruce said. "But the PTSD-related memories can be helped by specific beta blockers and exposure to the memory that's bothering you. Maria suggested it."

Bucky looked at Steve. "The lab. We're gonna start on that tonight."

Steve looked vastly underwhelmed. "Can't wait," he said, going back to his painting.

"So what do we do about the cats?" Sharon asked. "Not to interrupt medical talk, but only a couple of us can help with that. Are they dangerous? They seem harmless." She looked over as another one strolled in. "And cute, and I finally get to interact with cats." She leaned over in her chair, holding out her hand closest to the cat. "Here, kitty kitty."

A bolt of electricity jumped out of the wall near the light at the door and bounced about the room with a sharp crackle. Steve fell backwards in his chair, jerking away when one bolt tore through his canvas. Sharon dove under the table. Bruce threw himself over his computer, like he was unsure if it would survive another hit. Maria grabbed Bucky and pulled him down to the ground.

Above them, the electricity stopped as suddenly as it'd started. Slowly, one by one, they lifted their heads, every single one of them looking as paranoid as the others. Steve was the first to emerge from the floor, staring in dismay at his canvas. "I thought you said the damage done was fi-"

Bucky looked over at Steve's cut off and had to rub his eyes to be sure he was seeing right. The canvas repaired itself, new material weaving under and over, the paint restoring to Steve's progress, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Okay," Steve said, the single word a statement unto itself. "If I hadn't seen them going through walls before, I wouldn't have believed you. Now I do. What the hell?"

Sharon looked at Bucky. "Think this is time to call Tony to get us out of here?"

"Getting out of here sounds good," Bruce agreed.

Bucky frowned. It was sorely tempting. It would be smart, too, there was nothing at the Tower that did this. But something occurred to him, something he didn't want to say. It was possible having a problem to solve to protect the team would help Steve stop seeing the dark side of the Soldier. There were a few other things that occurred to him, while his brain was at it. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Sharon sounded like she wanted to reach across the table and strangle Bucky. She'd have to reach around Cali, who had never moved, it looked like.

"Maybe," he said. "I'm wondering if one of these damn things can follow us somehow. We don't need that at the Tower."

Bruce checked his computer, then sat back, finding it safe. "How likely is that, though?"

"No idea," Bucky admitted. "We'll stick it out awhile longer, just until we can figure out what's going on exactly so we know that if we go back, nothing's going to join us. Just be careful around them."

"A bit ago you were eager for an excuse to go home," Maria pointed out. "Is that really a reason for wanting to stay?"

Bucky shook his head. "I don't want to stay. This is a perfect reason to get the hell out of here. But Tony's likely to just send us somewhere else instead of to the Tower. And that'd eliminate this place as a safe space for the other Avengers. I think we need to stay here and figure out how to neutralize the danger. If not for us, then for the rest of the team. We need this hiding place, especially if things in Israel go sour. The others need us to fix this mess here."

Sharon sighed deeply. "And how are we supposed to do that? We keep checking the wires, we even knocked down a wall. None of us are priests or priestesses of any religion, so we can't perform an exorcism. Unless you think we should try to talk cats into crossing over to the other side."

"Still assuming they're ghosts," Maria said.

"Or that the cats are actually at fault," Bucky said. "It could be something else entirely, we don't know, and we won't know unless we investigate."

Steve pointed his paintbrush at Bucky. "Now you're just being stupid, Buck," he said. "We need to get out of here, even if it means packing back up again. Or even leaving our stuff here."

Bucky ignored the paintbrush. "And again, leave this place potentially dangerous for the other Avengers if everyone has to crash here. There's only so many places in the world that Tony can keep us safe in. It may just need some wiring adjusted. We might be able to stop it by playing around with the arc reactor, I don't know. Hell, it could've been an anomaly caused by something else entirely. We're not even at a hypothesis stage. But I'm not going to chance losing a safe place for our friends. We're adults now, and Avengers, we can handle this. We've handled worse, and after Tony pointing out that we can't run to him over every weird thing, I'm inclined to keep my ass planted and not get chased off by some electric anomalies that might have nothing to do with supernatural cats."

Steve took in one of those deep breaths that said he was angry, but giving in for the moment. "All right. It's not the call I'd make, but I'm not in charge."

"Stop that," Bucky said. "This place isn't a damn mission." Getting Steve out of Hyrda and protecting the others at the same time was, but the place itself wasn't. A technicality he didn't voice, because that was just a fight he didn't want. "And I don't want to hear that bull," he continued. "You'd make the same call at any other time in your life. If these things are dangerous and trying to get us to leave, they're furry little bullies and you _hate_ bullies."

There was another one of those breaths, but it ended with a defeated look. "You're right, I do. Fine. We stay and figure out how to get these things to be willing to live in peace with us." He eyed Cali. "Or get rid of them."

Cali hissed at him, swiping the air in front of her, then took off at a run, off the table, through the cafeteria, and out the door to the hallway.

Bucky watched her go. "You insulted her," he said.

Steve studied his almost done picture. "That's fine," he said. "She seems to be in charge around here, she's going to have to be the one to convince that trying to harm us isn't okay." He took the canvas off his easel, tilting it to let Bucky see. "Close enough to being done."

Bucky leaned over to see. "You've gotten good with the paints," he said. "Neat being able to do art in color, isn't it?"

Steve turned the canvas back to look at it. "It's different," he said, then dropped the canvas like it'd stung him.

The center of the painting burned out, wilting away until the same hole that the electricity had left was left behind. Steve reached out and tapped the canvas around the hole. "It's cold." He looked at Bucky. "Are you sure we shouldn't get out of here?"

"If this continues, we will," Bucky said. "I want out, believe me. But I want to make this place safe for the whole team, and that means we stick around and try to solve the problem."

Plus, there was still the problem of Steve's issues and Bucky's need to take care of them.

Sharon looked at Bruce. "You going to be okay with the occasional zap while we figure this out?"

Bruce nodded. "I know to expect them, and they intrigue the scientist in me. I can work on something to track and maybe predict the anomalies. I agree with Bucky, as long as it doesn't turn dangerous to a degree that we can't fight, we should stay."

"Hearing the arguments, I'm also inclined to agree," Maria said, speaking up for the first time in most of the debate. "We're Avengers. If we can face aliens and Hydra, we can handle a few electric anomalies. I trust us to know when it's time to retreat."

"Glad we all agree," Bucky said, then stood. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going up to the lounge. I promised quality cuddle time to my girlfriend, and as long as there's no more light shows, I'm following through on that." He looked at the others. "You're free to follow us to the lounge, but we lay claim on the couch."

Maria sighed and took Bucky's hand when he offered it. "We don't have to. There's work to be done now."

"What work?" he asked. "We can't do anything but speculate right now. Instead of beating our heads on the table, we'll just relax and let what is, be. And I promised you."

Sharon got up as well. "I don't want to be in this room anymore anyway," she said. She looked at Steve. "We could play Mario, amuse the others. We'll just ignore the cats so they don't zap our machine and lose our save file."

It was a small smile, but a genuine one that Steve gave her, and Bucky internally cheered. It seemed that Sharon was getting herself back into his head, if that smile was any indication. "As long as you let me get through one world without having to use a continue."

"I make no promises."

Bruce grabbed his computer, tucking it under his arm and standing. "I guess I may as well join everyone. I think we could all use a bit of downtime after that scare. We'll figure out what to do about the problem later."

"Good man, Bruce," Bucky said, then helped Maria to her feet. "Come on, we have to go get that couch before Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over here beat us to it."

Steve gave him a half-hearted glare. "Be nice or we'll run ahead to take it."

"No running," Sharon said. "You have to put your art stuff away. I'll help."

Leaving Sharon and Steve to do that, Bucky and Maria headed out, hand in hand, with Bruce trailing behind them. When they got upstairs, Bruce motioned towards the hall to the watch tower with his computer. "I'm going to go hook this up to Junior, see if she can risk downloading some information on those beta blockers," he said. "I'll be right back."

That left Bucky and Maria alone in the lounge. Bucky moved to sit on the couch, but a look from Maria stopped him. "Right, wrong side," he said, then moved down to the right end of the couch.

Maria got herself comfortable next to him, curling up against him when he wrapped his metal arm around her shoulders. She sighed, a happy sound, and closed her eyes. "I missed this," she said quietly. She was probably still thinking about the potential danger the electric anomalies presented, but for the moment, she was at least losing some of the tension in her muscles. Maybe her mind would finish quieting as they watched Steve and Sharon play Mario.

He kissed the top of her head. "We'll do it more often."

Bucky relaxed against her, letting the feeling of her soothe away the more immediate problems on his mind, let him focus on something other than Steve or those damn cats. Tony was right, he'd have to take some time now and again to get away from the others and just be with Maria. She was a source of strength that he sorely needed.

"Should we leave you two alone?" Bruce asked, his footsteps making Bucky look back over the back of the couch to see him enter. "You seem ready to sleep."

"Naw," Bucky said. "Just comfortable." He pointed his right finger back at Bruce. "No trying to work on serious problems. Unless something zaps us again, it is time to let the adrenaline drop wear off and relax for awhile."

Bruce held up his hands. "No talk from me," he promised, then took a seat. "So we're going to be treated to a video game, it sounds like."

"That's what they said," Maria said, and Bucky glanced down at her to see she hadn't opened her eyes. "Bucky says that Sharon sounds like an evil hyena when she sabotages Steve in that game."

"She does."

"I do not," Sharon protested, walking into the room. She put her book away while Steve, right on her heels, moved to turn on the game. "Are we sure this won't get us za-"

Bucky pointed at her sternly. "No. Adrenaline drop recovery time. We will figure out what to do about that later. Now turn on your game and play."

"You're the boss," she said, and Bucky had to resist the urge to grind his teeth.

No. He was there with his girlfriend and his family to relax and put everything else out of his mind. Lightning cats could wait. Steve's faulty memories could wait. Now was time for cuddles and Mario.

Sharon turned on the game, handed Steve the controller, and sat down with the pad.

Bucky sat back to watch and heckle, Maria comfortably in his arms.


	8. If He Was Fire, Then She Must Be Wood

Bucky and Steve had started fighting over stupid things. Who'd make lunch- it was always Bucky, why was Steve even arguing this? Or who handled the dishes -again, always Steve, why was this an argument? Glasses were being slammed down in the cupboard again, but at least Steve didn't have a favorite one for Bucky to accidentally break this time. Steve wouldn't accept help putting his art supplies away when Sharon returned from town with a flat and clear tote for them. Bucky understood he was fussy about it, but for god's sake, he'd never had a problem with Bucky helping him put away his art supplies before.

It was just getting ridiculous, and it always felt like Steve was the one picking the fight and Bucky was the one overreacting to it. He was sure that wasn't true, but it sure as hell felt like it. Hydra was making Steve prickly, and Bucky's patience was wearing thin, and the Soldier part of his brain was seriously starting to wonder if Steve was going to finally order him to leave him alone and go away. And Bucky didn't know how any part of his brain would handle that.

They were getting nowhere, fast.

Leaving Steve to the kitchen that day after lunch- if Steve wanted to clean it that badly, he could -Bucky went back to their room. Maria offered to spend time with him somewhere private, but he was too riled up, knew that he risked taking his bad mood out on her and he wouldn't do that to her, so he declined with a kiss to the cheek, as gentle as possible, before leaving the cafeteria.

Once in his room, he stared at the bed, debating knocking himself out with an Ativan for a sanity restoring nap, but thought better of it. Steve might show up and that'd kill that idea, and Bucky still had those files to sort back into order and they'd been sitting in the desk for two weeks now.

He sat down at the desk and pulled out the file. He slid the folder out of the envelope Tony had tucked it in and set the envelope aside. He ran his flesh fingers along the writing on the front, the words that labeled the folder 'Winter Soldier Project'. Carefully, worried about tearing the old pages, he opened the folder and started flipping through its content, project notes and pictures of various stages of the project. His own face stared back at him, gaze distant and rough and almost unrecognizable at times.

Wait. Something was off about the files. He flipped through them some more, realizing that the pages were back in order. He sure as hell hadn't reorganized them, but there they were, only a couple pictures out of place.

Which meant Steve had gotten back into them.

Goddamnit.

Bucky wondered how many times he'd sat there while Bucky slept a drugged sleep or spent time with Bruce or Maria or even just watched the news channels, hoping for information on the rest of his team. It was no wonder Steve's aggressions weren't easing off. It wasn't just pyschogenic memories, it wasn't a failure on the part of the beta blockers, it was because Steve was obsessing over something that couldn't be changed, couldn't be undone, and was no longer wanted to be undone. Bucky wouldn't have this family of his if not for what he went through. He wouldn't have Steve at all if not for that project.

Steve apparently didn't get that.

Bucky spread the papers and pictures out, reading over each one carefully, trying to see what Steve was seeing. He knew what he saw, he saw fear and anger and hurt, but mostly fear, followed by a cold lack of emotions at all. Winter.

Obviously, Steve saw something different. He saw the Soldier, he saw the monster.

Bucky wondered how many times he had to tell Steve that the monster loved him before he stopped fearing him.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Steve's voice. Bucky glanced over without moving his head as the door opened. "Buck, you're not napping, are-" Steve stopped, looking at Bucky at the desk over his dresser. "No, you're not."

"You're right, I'm not," Bucky said, starting to slide papers and pictures together in proper order. "I thought these were still out of order." He tapped the bottom of the papers on the desk, straightening them, and put them in the folder. "How many times have you looked at this?"

"Enough."

Bucky whirled in his seat. "Enough for what, to decide how much to hate me?"

Steve stepped in and slammed the door behind him. "Not you."

Bucky clenched his hands. "Then who, the Soldier? I _am_ the Soldier, and I don't know how many times I have to tell you this before it sinks in."

"That's not you," Steve said. "I saw what he did in that lab, that's not you."

Bucky tried to draw in a calming breath and count to ten, but he didn't quite make it and his fists began to shake from the effort it took to not yell. "Maybe once upon a time it wasn't, but goddamnit, Steve, I _am_ that now. It's part of me. Would you _please_ stop blaming me for what Hydra did to us?" He blamed himself for what happened to Steve enough, he didn't need Steve doing it too.

Before Steve could answer, he put the folder back in the envelope and stood. "And stop getting into my stuff." He took the envelope to his dresser and tucked it in the top drawer under his clothes. "This project is mine."

"Yours?" Steve said incredulously. "You still belong to Hydra?"

"Less than you do," Bucky snapped. "Now shut up and sit on the bed. We're going to try this exposure therapy again." Something, anything to try to beat Hydra out of him. It was probably bad timing, with how angry they both were, but maybe, just maybe, that anger could be directed away from Bucky and the Soldier and onto Hydra and they might get _somewhere._

Steve didn't give any inclination to move. "When're we going to focus on you?"

Bucky honestly couldn't tell if that was spoken merely in anger, or if he heard some concern in it.

"I've gotten out of Hydra once," he said. "And I can't do it again as long as you're fighting with me over every stupid thing. Now shut up, sit on the bed, and let's try this again. We're gonna keep doing it until either it starts working, or Bruce and I decide it's not working at all."

Steve finally went and sat down on the bed. "You can't tell it's not already?"

"You're not giving it a chance," Bucky said, sitting down across from Steve. "You keep shutting me down and leaving whenever we try. Now grab your sketchbook."

Steve grabbed his almost full sketchbook that he'd been using since the Tower, keeping track of nightmare images in an attempt to take their power away from them. He turned to the last picture and handed it over to Bucky.

Bucky took it, studying it, able to hold a straight face regardless of what he saw that Steve had drawn, but this one hurt. It was the Soldier, full face gear, blood spattered everywhere. Probably the first thing Steve really saw after the doctors were dead. "Why did you draw this?"

"Because it's what I had a nightmare about," Steve said. "You're the one that told me to do that."

Bucky looked up at him over the sketchbook. "Is this how you see me now?"

"It's how I see the Winter Soldier," Steve said, stubborn in his constant insistence that the Soldier and Bucky were separate people, to the same extent Bruce and the Hulk were.

"Steve, I _am_ the Winter Soldier. You're never going to get this out of your head if you don't accept that." Steve looked away, a stubborn set to his jaw. Okay, try something new. "What was the last thing you remembered in the lab before you saw this?"

That got Steve thinking, struggling to remember before that room. "I remember getting stabbed in the neck, right here." He indicated the muscle that connected his neck to his shoulder. "Then it went dark. I don't remember anything before that, but I remember that. Then I remember more needles." He stared down at his hands in his lap, and Bucky saw them shaking. "Then that room, those doctors, then the blood. Everything after that's clear enough."

"And the blood scares you more than the doctors?"

"It's not the blood, it's the face."

"So the Soldier scares you more than the threat of experiments those doctors were going to do on you?" That was completely unfair and it made Bucky angry, but he hid that pain and rage down where Steve couldn't see it.

"They're both Hydra," Steve snapped. "Unless you wanna look at those files and call me a liar."

Those damn files. If Steve had just fucking stayed out of them, this might not be as much of an issue as it was. "I'm not calling you a liar, I'm saying that you're wrong for thinking he didn't get out. _I_ got out and took his training with me."

"And he turned you into a murderer."

Bucky bit the inside of his mouth. "You say that while being able to remember that I threw out my realistic pacifism to become a sniper to protect you. What the h-" He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. "What makes you think that I wouldn't go that far to protect you from Hydra? _Especially_ from Hydra scientists? Or are you going to point out those files selectively?"

So much for patience and hiding his own reactions. It was no wonder they kept fighting. Bucky was shitty at this.

"How about I point out that they hit you with that same stuff they hit me with?" Steve all but snarled at him. "Tell me why I should trust that Hydra's not in you just as much as me?"

"You shouldn't," Bucky retorted, face growing hot from anger. "But I know the way out and I can't get back out as long as you won't come with me. How many times do I have to say that before it sinks in your thick skull?"

"We're getting nowhere with this," Steve said in disgust, getting up. "Why don't you go find your girlfriend? You're more tolerable after getting laid."

Bucky drew back, at once shocked and livid that Steve would even say that. That wasn't something Steve would normally say, and it felt like slap to the face, like Steve was no longer capable of making Bucky smile, that he could be only tolerable.

He let Steve go, the door slamming behind him again. He'd go look for him later, he was probably going to the training room to work off his frustrations.

Bucky threw the sketchbook across the room and stormed out, heading to the work room. Bruce wasn't there, so Bucky began tying rubber bands together, the anger slowly leeching out until all that was left was an empty sense of hopelessness. Two weeks and things were only getting worse.

Bucky rolled the little ball of rubber bands he'd made between his hands, his chin on the work table. He and Bruce still hadn't figured out anything that could treat Steve's amnesia that would get through the brain-blood barrier and actually do any good.

So he decided to try to chew on that, rolling that ball back and forth.

Really, though, he wasn't thinking about the problem at all. He wasn't thinking much of anything except about keeping that ball in a straight path. The argument with Steve sat in his stomach like an uncomfortable lump, so Bucky wasn't feeling up to much of anything. Steve had likely gone to the training building, and Sharon, last he knew, had gone to the lounge, reading one of her romances. Maria... actually, he wasn't sure where either Maria or Bruce were.

His mental health would probably do better if he found one of them to spend time with, instead of gnawing on his liver over the increasing number of fights he and Steve were having. Or even just the one they just had.

"Bucky?"

Bucky didn't lift his head at the sound of Maria's voice in his comm, but he stopped playing with the rubber bands. "Yeah?"

"Junior says there's an incoming call from Tony for you. She says he specified you."

He would've thought that odd, except that he knew it meant that Tony was wanting an update that Bucky didn't wanna give. No good news to give. But he bit back a sigh and sat up, setting aside the rubber band ball. "Am I supposed to go out to the quinjet, or can I take it up in the computer room? Where I assume you are to have gotten that call."

"Up here will work," Maria said. "I'll leave to give you privacy. Tony seems intent on wanting to talk to only you."

Yup, an update that Bucky didn't want to give. He stood from the desk chair he and Bruce confiscated for the work room and headed down the hall. "I'm on my way," he said, reaching the watch tower stairs. He climbed them like his feet were made of lead, heavy and reluctant to move.

Maria had the door open, so he didn't have to fuck around with the lock. Good. The damn thing still was twitchy about his handprint scan. She turned in her seat with a small smile. "Hello, dear."

She was trying, he knew that. Sharon was trying with Steve, Maria was trying with him, and Bruce was trying to find the magic pill to heal everything, but they all knew about the fights. They all knew how far they were from going home.

Bucky forced a smile to match to make her feel better. She got up and met him halfway from the door to the communications computer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his metal shoulder. "You shouldn't spend so much time isolated from everyone," she said, glancing up at him without moving her head.

He wrapped her up in his arms like a line of hope, something to hold onto that'd keep him from getting lost in the storm that had entered his life against his will. "I know," he said, indirectly admitting that he didn't really do anything when left to his own devices but brood. "So Tony's calling me, huh?"

Maria let go of him and motioned to her chair. "Insistently. I'll give you privacy for the call. I don't think Tony cares to talk to anyone else right now anyway." She looked at him. "Don't close the door on him, okay? I know Steve's your best friend, and you've talked to me, but he cares too."

Oh lord, Maria. Bucky gave her a lopsided grin. "I know. You don't need to tell me." He stepped past her to the chair, only giving half notice as she left and closed the door behind her. "Okay, Junior," he said, shooing one of the cats off the computer console.

"Connecting right now," she said.

Her voice was immediately followed by Tony's. "So how's my favorite cybernetic friend?" Tony asked with a fake enthusiasm.

"As far as I know, I'm the only cybernetic friend you have," Bucky replied, grabbing the cat to drop on the ground again after it'd hopped back up. "To answer your question, I'm not going to pretend to be anything but honest. I'm miserable here."

He heard Tony take in a deep breath. "I know," he said, sounding genuinely sorry. "I want to bring you guys back to the Tower. Or even out here. We could use you."

"Then call us in," Bucky said, almost- almost -angrily, but he pulled that back under control. Tony didn't deserve his ire; the fights he and Steve had been having and the way Hydra was lurking just below the surface for both of them made Tony's decision to put them in that school the right one, and Bucky knew it.

"Can I?"

Bucky sighed, sitting back in his seat. "No."

"Talk to me."

"Since when did you become a good therapist?"

He could hear the smile in Tony's voice when he answered. "Since Bruce put up with me turning him into one. I realized how good it feels to talk to someone I trusted. So I guess I ask: do you trust me?"

"You know I do," Bucky said without hesitation. "But to answer that question you didn't have to ask, Steve's not getting much better. We have him on a beta-blocker and I'm _trying_ to continually expose him to the lab that night by talking him through it, that's supposed to help with pscyhogenic memory problems, but it's tough going. He doesn't wanna talk about it."

"I don't blame him, but what kind of memory problems is this gonna solve?"

Bucky rubbed his metal finger against the scar behind his ear where the comm chip sat. "It's the same as treating PTSD memories, and I wish I'd had a way to do this earlier in my own recovery. Right now, his brain is remembering the lab as a new event every time he thinks about it. The beta blockers and the exposure therapy is supposed to help his brain refile it as a memory in the past so it's more of a scar and less of a bleeding wound. In theory, this should make helping him deal with what he's missing easier. At this point, the only thing he's having trouble remembering is the more recent stuff. The war's mostly back, as much as it's going to get, all told, but you guys, stuff with me there in DC, it's still a big hole."

"And he's not giving this a chance?" Tony sounded confused. "That doesn't sound like Cap. I would think he'd wanna get better ASAP so things could go back to normal." He paused, but before Bucky could answer, he spoke up again. "How abnormal are things between you two?"

There was that part of the report he didn't want to give. He leaned back in the chair, looking up at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears that threatened every time after a fight from forming or leeching into his voice. The cat jumped back up on the console. Bucky ignored it.

"We're fighting worse. Like I said, he's not really wanting to talk about it, so it's not getting better." He swallowed tightly. "Those damn doctors didn't die painfully enough," he said in a low voice.

"No, they didn't," Tony agreed, sounding like he wanted to reach through the miles and make everything better with the wave of a magic wand. "So he still doesn't remember us?" he asked, hovering somewhere between hope for a good answer, and resignation for a bad.

Bucky sat up. "It's coming back slowly. He still remembers the relationships, the friendships. He can feel how true those are. He just can't remember specifics. Kinda like me way back when."

"So he's still our friend?"

Bucky smiled, a bit sadly. "He's still your friend, Tony. He's still our friend, all of us. We're just getting the happenings that led to these friendships back."

"But he's fighting with you."

Bucky couldn't deny that, hadn't yet, and wasn't going to now, especially not after admitting to it already. "Yeah. Hydra's there, just below the surface. And I can't focus on me until he's easing back from them, because what's affecting him is keeping me from getting anywhere. Maria and Bruce are keeping me sane, and Sharon's keeping Steve distracted when I need a break."

"Is he remembering her better?" Tony asked.

"Better than the others, yeah," Bucky replied. "She spends the most time with him, they play Mario, she's carefully forcing physical contact. He's responding. He's starting to respond to Bruce, too. Maria he's still slow with, but she's more focused on me than him, and that's not helping to put her back in his head."

"But with you, he's a mess," Tony said, then sighed. "So I really am stuck leaving you guys there. I was hoping I could bring you home."

Bucky had to fight back tears again. He wanted back home so badly it ached. "I know," Bucky said. "Believe me, we all want to go back to the Tower. We're all homesick, Tony, that's not helping anything. But with how bad things are between him and I right now, it wouldn't be a good idea. We need the time far away from Hydra to fix this, so Israel is a bad idea, and I'm not sure the Tower would be good either, although I won't deny that some of the medical equipment would be appreciated."

"I can send stuff, if there's room."

Bucky tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "There really isn't room, and I dunno how we'd get anything from there to here to begin with. Not without compromising our safety here."

Tony made a frustrated noise. "Yeah, you're right." He sighed. "But all my friends are fine there, right? I don't need to come back for anything?"

"No," Bucky said. "We're all right, we're just homesick and we miss you guys. But we'll be okay. It'll just take awhile longer, that's all." More tears that he had to wipe out of his eyes before they finished forming. He wanted to go home so badly.

Tony didn't answer right away. "Have Junior contact me the second you think it's safe to go back to the Tower. We'll try to give you some more recovery time there, and then deploy you guys out here. Hopefully, though, this will be over before you have to come out here."

"How bad is it?" Bucky asked, almost afraid to.

"It's a mess," was his answer, and Bucky knew he'd elaborate, or Bucky'd be reaching across the miles to throttle him.

Tony did not disappoint. "Right now, Thor's acting as 'visiting dignitary' in Iran. He basically is strong arming them into accepting a truce with Israel while the UN works on finding Hydra in Israel's government and flushing them out. I'm pretending that Thor appointed me to play weapons inspector. I'm supposed to be making sure they don't illegally have Stark Industries stuff, but I'm looking for more than just that. Natasha's raising hell in their computer systems that handle R&D. Not that she gets the information on where to work from me."

"No, not at all," Bucky said, rolling his eyes. "What's going on in Israel?"

"Pepper's representing us in Israel," Tony said.

"You have Pepper out there?" That surprised the shit out of Bucky. "Is that safe for her?"

"Remember how I said she won't burn?" Tony said.

"I remember. Lemme guess, the positive effects remain?"

Tony sounded almost smug. "They can't hurt her, and the edge it gave her in her brain on how to royally kick ass is still there. They can't touch her, and the second they try, she'll fry them like a chicken from Kentucky."

"I hope she's smarter than to not at least give a one strike warning," Bucky said.

"You doubt that?" Tony said. "My lady's the smartest out there, no offense to Maria or Sharon. I know I'm biased, but Sharon and Maria lack Pepper's charisma. They're wonderful ladies, good at what they do, but Pepper's area is leading diplomatic relations. Running a business. That's really all government is sometimes, is business. She's the perfect person for the job she's in."

"Well, as long as she's safe. Next time you talk to her, tell her we all say hi."

"I will."

"So what is she doing there? Besides representing us?"

"She's said we're not going to interfere with Israel and Iran, we're a neutral party, they can do what they want."

"While Thor enforces a truce in Iran."

Tony probably was sporting a big smirk at that. "Oh, Pepper's doing the same. She's put her foot down that no weapons go in or out until Hydra's tracked down. After that, we're backing out. She's just making it clear that we're there to hunt Hydra, and neither side is going to schmooze us into supporting them."

"What about Rhodey and Clint?"

"Rhodey's doing about what I'm doing here in Iran, inspecting weapons and military facilities, making sure everyone's nose stays clean. Clint is basically doing the same thing as Natasha. They're both good at that. He's disabling Israel's nuclear system before our wonderful Prime Minister Bar-Lev decides that Iran put Hydra in Israel and sends out nukes at Iran."

"Why would she think that?" Bucky asked.

"Probably because it's true," Tony said. "Or possibly true. We don't know yet. But Israel doesn't really wait to be attacked before they start firing missiles. They have the Begin Doctrine."

That sounded familiar to Bucky. He frowned. "Isn't that that preemptive self-defense bullshit they adopted way back?"

"And still have," Tony said.

"And Sam?"

"Not out here yet. One of my engineers down in New Mexico had some brilliant ideas based on the uniforms of the other Avengers to improve his wings. We're waiting on some material and something that complicated takes a bit of work. Wouldn't if it were me on an Iron Man suit, not anymore, but I can put those together in my sleep. The first one took a lot more work and a lot more time to get right. He's probably bitching about bad test runs, but he's going to the Tower after his wings are done, and then he'll be brought out here. I'm hoping I can get the lot of you in one shot."

Bucky chewed the skin on the inside of his lip. "I dunno how likely that is to happen, Tony, but we'll try."

"It'll happen."

There was a long pause on both ends, both reluctant to end the conversation, but both knowing it had to be. Everything to report on both sides had been reported, and there really wasn't time to spare nor chance on a longer call.

Bucky spoke up first. "I'll get us out there as soon as I can," he promised.

"I know you will," Tony said. "And we'll be waiting. Just have Junior and JARVIS hook up, get a message to me to let me know where you're going. I'll have JARVIS coordinate getting everyone back to the Tower, with or without Sam. Then give me another status report on your respective brain places. If the move didn't shake anything bad loose, we'll get you out here. We don't need the Hulk, but Bruce himself would be nice. Doctor Hope's good, but he's no Bruce. And the girls are good fighters, we could use them, too. Maybe put Sharon on bodyguard duty again with Pepper. I know she wouldn't like being separated from you guys after so long stuck together, but it'd be strategically better. And it minimizes how many people Steve likes and remembers are on the front lines and in direct danger."

"She does good as a bodyguard," Bucky agreed. "But remember, she can calm the Hulk down enough for Bruce to take back over, so you may want her to be Bruce's bodyguard. Maria could cover Pepper."

"She any good at being a bodyguard?"

"She's good at basically everything she does," Bucky said, feeling his own sense of pride. "She'd handle the job."

"I'll consider it," Tony said, then the atmosphere turned somber again. "But that's not for now, we'll work on that once you guys are out here."

Bucky didn't reply right away. "You have to get back to work, don't you?"

Tony didn't sound like he liked his own answer. "Yeah, I do. I just wanted to know how long before I get my friends back."

"We're still your friends," Bucky told him. "Even Steve's. We just can't come home yet, that's all. We'll be there. Keep the lights on for us."

"Will do. I'll keep checking in, just to make sure you guys don't need anything else out there to make the living conditions as comfortable as possible."

Bucky glanced around at the other computers. "If the rest of the Avengers were here, it'd be perfect," he said. "It's comfortable. The training building is phenomenal. The cafeteria's big and already set up, we wouldn't have to hijack the ball room and set stuff up. The lounge is big enough and already furnished, we don't have to go all the way up to a penthouse or drag in comfortable furniture to the ballroom with the tables. The kitchen's not as big, but it's big enough."

"I'll keep that in mind if we have to hide after this mess," Tony said. "We might join you before you join us."

"Expecting trouble?"

"Maybe," Tony said. "It depends on how well liked we are after this is over. We might all have to duck down. Thor can join his girlfriend and the others in that Vana place, but the rest of us would be going to you."

That made Bucky smile a little. "Well, we'll see who goes where first. But we'll meet up."

"Good. I hate to cut this call short, but I have to go," Tony said. "Natasha just informed Thor of another weapons location I have to go 'inspect' for her. I just wanted to check in."

Bucky could hear almost how lonely Tony was for them. "Your friends appreciate it," he said, deliberately wording it that way to remind Tony that he wasn't forgotten.

"Good, you'd better." There, Tony's usual snark. He sounded like Bucky's words had made him happy. "With that, goodbye."

Junior let Bucky know that the connection was lost. Bucky sat back in the computer chair, staring up at the ceiling again and swiveling the chair a few inches right, a few inches back left. Talks with Tony when serious things like this came up always left him feeling a bit shaky, like a ball in his stomach.

And he hadn't even mentioned the so-called paranormal phenomenon that had yet to pose a big threat. That might've gotten them home to the Tower- and he wasn't lying about how badly they all wanted to go back -but hearing that Tony might bring the other Avengers to the school made him all the more intent on stopping the problem so everyone was safe. That's what he did, he made things safe.

He decided he needed an Ativan and headed out of the watch tower.


	9. Do You Denote?

By the end of week three, all five of them had admitted that the yard had turned into a prairie, needing to be cut desperately. Steve suggested that he and Bucky do it, while the women argued they were just as capable. Bruce's contribution that eased everyone's tempers was that they could rotate. This time would be Steve and Bucky, next time would Sharon and Maria.

"And ladies? Please don't let it get as bad as we've let it get when it's your turn."

"I don't plan to," Maria said. "I'm ashamed that we let it get this long as it is. My father would turn my ears red for neglecting my chores."

"Somehow, I don't doubt that," Bucky said. "Okay, so we fucked up and let it go. Steve and I will go knock down the jungle out there, and we'll all be better about keeping it trimmed."

"And the days you mow, Maria and I will take care of cooking and kitchen. It's not like we do anything else around here," Sharon said firmly.

Bucky sat back in his seat. "I could say there's a million rooms that need regular dusting or we're all going to get bothered sinuses, but I'm not going to give you girls an entire mansion to clean."

"We can rotate on that, too," Maria said. "We'll pick one floor of the classrooms every other day and all of us will go in and dust and sweep and mop. You're right, too much dust build up and we'll all suffer."

Bruce drew in the sort of breath that indicated he was about to hijack the conversation and they could damn well all listen to him. "There's also the fact that dust can be flammable, and we're having electricity issues. We don't need to start an accidental fire."

Steve looked at Bucky. "That'd definitely defeat your purpose for keeping us here."

Bucky rested his chin on his hands, elbows on the table. "I talked to Tony a few days ago, maybe a week."

"I remember that," Maria said. "You said he was asking for a status update here. What does that have to do with a potential dust explosion?"

"Getting there," Bucky said with a wrinkle of his nose. "He also mentioned that if things get messy after they're done out there, he might have to bring the whole team here. I want this place safe for them before that happens. It's not just us to worry about anymore."

Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "That bad out there?"

Bucky shrugged. "He didn't get into a lot of details. He and Thor are in Iran, enforcing a temporary truce with Israel. He's supposedly inspecting weapons, looking for R&D stuff to give to Natasha to sabotage. She's working in the shadows. Pepper, Rhodey, and Clint are all in Israel, doing the same thing. As far as we know, nobody knows Clint and Natasha are even out there. Sam's still waiting on his wings, but he might be there by now. But he mentioned that the world in general might not like the Avengers after another Hydra incident and the team'd have to come here after they're done out there."

"Why didn't you tell us any of this?" Steve asked, sounding ready to throttle his partner for forgetting to tell anyone about the conversation. "This sounds like important stuff."

"Important, but nothing we can do anything about," Bucky said, rather seeing Steve's point and feeling bad for it. Well, too late. "We'll just continue to listen for more updates and get this place safe in the meantime." He looked behind him at the cafeteria door where Cali sat peacefully, a few of the smaller cats playing around her. "You guys make this place weird."

"And potentially dangerous," Sharon said. "How are we supposed to get rid of twenty cats that happen to also be electromancers?"

Bucky looked over at her. "I'm not sure they are," he said. "I know both of the big incidents we've had had them around, but it could be something else reacting to them. We don't know." He stood. "But first, Steve and I are going to mow down that foot high grass. Assuming neither mower breaks and the rider isn't slower than molasses, we should be back in in time for us to shower before lunch. And since you insist, we'll let you handle that."

"And dinner," Maria said, and Bucky could tell she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.

"And dinner," he agreed.

Sharon made a thoughtful noise and Bucky waited patiently, pushing in his chair while Steve slowly stood up, both watching Sharon.

"I have a better idea," she said. "Bruce, why don't you clean the kitchen for Maria for lunch? I can go to town, check out the library, see if I can find anything on what kind of supernatural creatures can control electricity. Might give us a better idea of what we're looking at."

"Not a bad idea," Bruce said. "I can clean the kitchen, sure. Were you planning on waiting until after lunch to go into town, then?"

Sharon shook her head. "I was thinking of going while these two are mowing."

"You'll miss lunch," Maria pointed out.

"I know. I'll grab something in town. Steve and Bucky gave me some cash for the stuff I picked up before, I have a little left. Enough to grab some fast food or something cheap."

"That stuff's bad for you," Steve said. "You should wait until after lunch to go."

Sharon smiled. "You're sweet to look after me, but it's not that bad as an occasional treat. You two have me eating very healthy, one bad McChicken is not going to kill me. But thank you."

Steve didn't like losing that one, that was obvious, but he let it go. "All right. I guess Buck and I go take care of the yard. We'll see you when you get back."

The three of them parted from Maria and Bruce, getting on shoes, then Sharon headed down the path to the garage and Steve and Bucky headed to the groundskeeping building. The lock was still there, but easily snapped open. Bucky discarded it on a window sill once inside. "Okay, who takes what?"

"I'll take the riding mower," Steve said. "There's more ground to cover with it than the other."

Bucky looked up at him. "I can handle longer out here than that, you know."

Steve frowned. "I was thinking of overheating your arm. I was thinking of you."

Bucky couldn't help mumbling under his breath "that's a first."

Steve obviously heard that. "Are we really going to do this over lawnmowers?" he demanded.

"Why not?" Bucky snapped. "We fight over everything else. Our friends are starting to think we're breaking up and they're stuck in the damn middle."

"Oh god," Steve said, running both hands down his face. "Can we stop with that joke? We both have girlfriends, we don't need to be making that joke. We're brothers, not an old married couple."

"Are we?" Bucky said. "We sure as hell don't act like brothers anymore. We fight over _everything._ What kind of stupid definition of 'brothers' do you have?"

Steve ground his teeth together. "The wrong one, apparently. Why are we doing this?"

"Why do we ever do it?" Bucky asked, the anger growing into a weary resignation. "I'm getting sick of this, Steve. We're fighting over who uses which lawnmower. I'm tired of it. Can we _please_ stop? I know Hydra's in us both pretty badly, but surely we can mow the damn yard without sniping at each other."

For a second, Bucky wasn't sure what sort of answer he was going to get to that, if he even got one at all. Then Steve sighed and turned to him, resting his head on Bucky's metal shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "You're right, this is stupid. And it's mostly been me that's been unfair."

Bucky reached up and put his arms around Steve, tilting his head against Steve's. "I started this one. It's just Hydra. We'll get rid of them."

Steve straightened and put his hand on Bucky's shoulder that his head had just vacated. He looked at Bucky's arm, giving the biomechtium a slight squeeze. "I just hate what they did to you."

Oh finally, some progress. Bucky wanted to sob with relief. "I hate what they did to you more. But come on, we have a yard to mow, we can talk later."

Steve dropped his hand and turned to the machines in front of them. "Do you know how to operate these?" he asked.

"Nope. City boy, just as much as you."

Steve grabbed the wheel of the rider mower, nudging Bucky out of the way, and pulled the rider out of the building. "I guess we get to figure it out the hard way."

"This should be fun. Maybe we should've had Maria teach us how to do this," Bucky said.

"You wanna go get her?" Steve asked. "It might not be a bad idea."

"Tempting," Bucky admitted. "First thought that occurs to me is if there's any gas in these things, or if the oil needs changed. They've been sitting dormant for how long?"

Steve looked around the yard. "Well, the grounds looked good when we got here, so someone's been using it. The mowers probably work fine, although gas might be a problem. We'll find out." He looked at Bucky. "You're an engineer, think you can figure out how these work?"

Bucky squinted at him. "Steve, I design weapons and work on medicines, I'm not a mechanic. Being an engineer doesn't mean I can make every machine I encounter my bitch. Don't confuse me with Tony. I'm not as smart as he is."

"Nobody is," Steve said, walking over and examining the push mower that Bucky was fussing around with. "I've seen these on TV."

"Yeah, me too," Bucky said. "I think all I have to do is yank this cord and make sure this thing is bent to the handle," he said. "What about yours? It should be like driving a very slow stick shift."

Steve headed back over to his mower and hopped up, looking it over. "I need a key."

"I'll look for one." Bucky headed back in, examining the walls for a hook with a small - he figured it'd be a small one anyway -key. There were two hanging on either side of the door frame leading back into the living quarters of the groundskeepers. "You're shitting me." One of those was probably for the door into that area. The other might be for mower. He hoped, anyway.

He headed back out to Steve. "There were two. Try this one first." He tossed the smaller key over.

Steve caught it and stuck it in the keyhole. "Well, it fits." He twisted it, and the mower roared to life. They both covered their ears at the noise. "Loud, isn't it?" Steve yelled back at Bucky.

"You don't say."

Bucky left Steve to his work, turning to try to figure out his own machine, which almost looked more intimidating than Steve's giant riding model. At least that looked like it drove like a normal vehicle. This thing looked like a demented vacuum.

Well, may as well give it a try.

He pinched the little rod attached to the handle under his hand, and then yanked the cord. The little lawnmower jumped to life, almost pulling Bucky forward for how much it wanted to _move._ He went along with it, trying to direct it up against the building, knowing that Steve's big rider wasn't going to get there. Halfway there, the mower sputtered and died.

Shit. You're kidding me.

He knelt down in the three foot grass and set the mower on its side, trying to see what was wrong, careful of the blades. He used his left hand, figuring that it shouldn't get too beat up by a lawnmower blade if it could hold in one piece for an RPG blast. The thing was crammed full under the blades.

The grass was just too long for it. Damnit damnit damnit.

He looked back up for Steve, who was chugging along over the grass, chopping it down to an acceptable length. The riding model could handle this, but it was obvious this demonic grass vacuum couldn't. Well, there went that idea. He'd let Steve get the worst of the mess cut, then try the little mower again in the hard to reach places.

He pushed the mower back against the side of the groundskeeping building and leaned back against the wall to watch Steve, ready to smile and wave and look like a jackass by not working while Steve was dying of heat.

Not that Bucky wasn't dying of heat. Who told June to act like it as already July?

Steve swung around at a rather sharp angle- damn, Bucky didn't think such a big thing like that would be capable of that -and stopped watching where he was going, glaring at Bucky. He yelled something at Bucky that Bucky couldn't hear, but was probably a 'why aren't you working?' from the look on Steve's face.

Bucky pointed to the little mower and made the ASL sign for dead, flipping his hands from one palm down with the other up, until it was the other way around. He didn't know much ASL, and neither did Steve, but there were a few signs that Morita had taught them for use in the raids on Hydra. His little sister had been deaf, so he was fluent. They didn't all become fluent, although Steve could've easily with his knack for languages.

Steve pulled the mower to a stop and turned it off. "What happened to kill it?" he asked, no longer having to yell over a loud engine.

"Grass is too long for it," Bucky replied. "It wasn't built for a forest like this. You're on your own until you get to places you can't get in. I'll try to get into those places, but I can't get this thing anywhere right now."

Steve hopped off the mower and walked over "Well, what are they supposed to do with lawns that are overgrown?" he asked, kneeling by it and peeking under it.

"Once upon a time, no idea," Bucky said. "Scissors, maybe." Steve gave him a look of being very not up for dealing with Bucky's sarcasm. "Now, they cut it down with something like that." He motioned to the riding mower. "I guess I get to sit back and watch for awhile. It shouldn't be like this in future, as long as we don't let the grass get away from us."

"If we do, we're all drinking Kool-Aid," Steve said. Then he sighed. "Okay, I guess I get back to work. Why don't you get that thing back inside to get it out of my way."

"You're the boss on this one," Bucky said, grabbing the handle of the mower and backing it into the building proper.

"Me? For once?"

Bucky glared at him. "We're not doing this," he reminded him. "Yeah, I've been bossy, but that's because I'm taking care of everyone. I'm not trying to be an asshole."

Steve huffed, sounding ready to argue, but pulled Bucky into a hug. "Stop it," he said. "Let us help."

Bucky took in a deep breath and rested his face against Steve's shoulder. "I _am,"_ he protested, then pulled back. "I throw Sharon at you regularly, and I have Maria and Bruce. This is just part of my job, to help you, to get rid of Hydra, and get us back home. That's all." He'd carefully avoided the use of the word 'mission'. It was becoming the word equivalent of _persona non grata_. "Now go mow the damn yard."

Once again, Steve looked ready to argue, but he let whatever was in his brain go and patted Bucky's shoulder.

A crack of lightning made them both jump back into the building where they hoped they might be safe from whatever storm was running through.

Through the bright blue and sunny sky with no clouds in sight.

Bucky didn't have time to wonder about that, because the ground around the riding mower flooded with a whispy blue haze that ionized the air enough to give him goosebumps. Above the seat of the mower lifted more blue haze, taking the distinct shape of a child hanging from something, a rope perhaps.

As quickly as it started, the strange plasma dispersed, taking the image of the girl with it.

Steve and Bucky stayed still for several seconds, gripping each other's arms, ready to pull one or the other out of danger, then both started yelling "what was that?!" over each other.

"That was St. Elmo's Fire," Bucky said, staring at the mower, then pulled his metal arm away from Steve and tested it. Good, the electric energy hadn't fried anything, it was responding fine. He didn't think it wouldn't, Natasha's window bites had hit him square on his forearm and only temporarily disabled it.

But it was good to check.

"Yeah," Steve agreed, then looked at Bucky. "But St. Elmo's fire that produces hallucinations?"

"The girl?"

"Not a hallucination then."

Bucky dropped his other hand from Steve's arm, stepping back outside. The grass looked fine, if still too long, but there was a sense of static electricity lingering in the area. "I'm not sure the cats had anything to do with those electrical anomalies," he said. "I think our ghost is something else."

"We're still going with ghost?"

"Maybe." Bucky frowned. "Come on, let's go see if that thing still works. If it does, we may as well finish the yard. We should wait for Sharon to come back with information before we make any more conclusions." Bucky walked towards the mower, not pausing even when he yanked his hair free of its hair tie and redid the ponytail to tame the static electricity that had hit it. "You want me to do this, or did you wanna?"

"I'll do it," Steve said, hopping up into the seat. "We may not see that again, but if that was St. Elmo's Fire, it's going to be attracted to your arm, not just the mower. You stay inside the building with that little push thing. We'll turn on our comms, keep in contact."

Bucky eyed his left arm. "Yeah, getting hit with supernatural St. Elmo's Fire or something else might be bad for this thing."

"Might be?"

Bucky shrugged. "Everything else that's been hit by something around here has fixed itself afterwards."

Steve shook his head. "We shouldn't take chances. Get inside there, I'll let you know when we can drag out that other thing."

"The demon vacuum, you mean?"

"You're weird, Bucky."

Bucky flashed Steve a toothy grin in reply, but did as he was told, actually glad for once to not be making the decisions. He flopped back on the floor against the door frame, watching as Steve swung the behemoth around the yard in a pattern that didn't seem at all efficient, but considering this was Steve's first time even mowing a yard, he probably wasn't doing too bad.

They had their comms on, but neither said anything, the roar of the mower blocking out the desire to speak. So Bucky let his mind wander, going back to that image of that child. He'd wait to see what Sharon brought back to them, but he was starting to become all the more convinced that they were dealing with a ghost, possibly of the poltergeist variety, that the cats may have only been tangentially related to. Someone or something was focused on that little kid, to have lit up the entire ground with an unnatural case of St. Elmo's Fire just to show her off.

He wanted to see what Sharon had, and badly, before he committed himself to the idea that it was a ghost. If it was, they could check school records, see if there were any cases of suicide or murder or even kids gone missing from the school. Something. Anything.

Bucky got to his feet when Steve chugged the riding mower back to the grounds building and dusted off the back of his pants. "My turn?" he asked, eyeing the areas against the building that Steve hadn't gotten before.

"Your turn," Steve confirmed, shooing Bucky out of the way and dragging the mower inside. There was probably a better way to do that, but they didn't know it. "I'm gonna shower while you do that, so you don't have to wait on me."

"Good idea," Bucky said, then yanked out the evil grass vacuum again.

The damn thing still stalled a time or two; there being less grass to mow did not make that grass shorter, and it still choked the mower a few times. Bucky was certain he spent more time unclogging it and restarting it than actually cutting grass with it.

Just as predicted, Steve was done with the shower and gone from the room by the time Bucky finished and had put everything away. The idea of a cool shower sounded good, and Bucky stayed under the spray maybe a bit too long, rinsing off the grime of the late June heat and the frustration that stupid mower had caused.

Lunch was a chore; Bucky spent most of the time tapping his finger and driving everyone nuts in the process.

"You're trying to figure something out," Bruce said, the first to speak up on it.

Bucky eyed his finger, then folded his hands on the table, staring down at his hot fried sandwich. "The riding mower got hit with St. Elmo's Fire out there," he said. "Neither of us were on it at the time, but..." He trailed off, looking up at Steve. "We both saw that kid, right?"

Steve nodded, swallowing a bite of his food. "Little kid, hanging from something like she'd been strung up."

Maria looked between them. "And you're just now sharing this?"

Bucky sighed. "We can't make any speculation about what caused it until Sharon gets back with that research. I'm still inclined to say ghost, but I don't know what all is out there. Whatever it was, it scared the shit out of us."

"And again, you're just now sharing this?" Maria asked. "Able to speculate or not, you nearly got hit by an electric abnormality. This seems like information that needs to be shared."

"That's my fault," Steve said. "I was in here first, I should've said something."

Bucky looked up at him without lifting his head. "But you were waiting for me. And I swear to Christ, Steve, if you say it was because I'm the one in charge, I will shove that sandwich down your throat."

Steve glared. "You really like to assume the worst of me lately, don't you?"

Before Bucky could respond, starting a real argument, Maria held up her hands, one palm facing each of them. "Stop. Not now. We have far more important things to focus on." Bucky backed down, and once Steve had too, Maria lowered her hands to fold them on the table. "Now, without fighting, tell us what happened."

Bucky would've accused her of being patronizing, but with the way he and Steve had been sniping at each other the past few weeks , it was necessary.

Steve sat back and motioned to Bucky. "I think he got a better view than I did."

Bucky sighed heavily, wanting to smack Steve. They both saw the same damn thing. But Maria wasn't going to put up with their fighting, so he let it go. "We were just in the shed, trying to figure out what to do about that little push mower. The grass was too long for it." He decided to leave out the part where they were attempting to stop the fights and make up, although it'd been obvious even then that it wasn't going to happen. "There was a shot of lightning, it hit the rider that Steve had left out in the yard. It caused St. Elmo's Fire all across the yard, and above the mower, where the flare was, was the shape of a kid that had gotten hung. It disappeared almost as fast as it'd hit. We didn't see anything else."

Bruce sat back, crossing his arms. "Well, the image makes me think you're right about a ghost," he said, nodding in Bucky's direction. "But as you said, without more information, it's hard to speculate."

"Exactly why I didn't say anything," Bucky said, dragging the already touchy atmosphere down a few degrees as he started to sulk, picking at his sandwich without any appetite anymore. Two fights with Steve over fucking mowing the yard, a helluva scare from whatever was haunting their place, and almost a third fight that his girlfriend to break up.

For fuck's sake.

He almost decided to abandon his food, stomach in too many knots, and head to the lounge with one of the cats when the front door opened. Oh good, Sharon was back. They could start working on something that maybe hopefully probably wouldn't cause fights somewhere along the way.

Sharon paused in the doorway. "Okay, you're still eating. Either the lawn took longer than I thought it would, or I didn't take as long as I thought it would."

Steve pulled out a chair for her. "The lawn was a nightmare. The little mower kept clogging up."

"Oh." Sharon took the offered seat, setting her bag down on the empty chair between her and Bucky. "Well, there wasn't much to find, but we have a few things," she said, pulling a notebook out of her bag. "And there wasn't much information on what was available that sounded at all like what we're working on."

"Hit us," Bucky said. "We might find something, and if not, I have an idea that I probably share with Steve."

Sharon looked between them. "Did something happen?"

"Your information first," Bucky said.

She looked a bit worried by that, but flipped open her notebook. "The most recognizable one was the Thunderbird, which is Native American, stretching from the Great Lakes area, across the Great Plains, and over into the Pacific area. Since we've seen these things related to the cats, I figured it probably wasn't that, but I made note anyway."

"Good idea," Steve said. "What next?"

Sharon took in a breath, grabbing a pen and checking off something. "There's the Raiju, the Japanese thunder spirit. That was harder to get information on, because my search kept getting changed to 'Raichu.'"

"What's the difference?" Bucky asked.

"One's a Pokemon."

"Ah."

"There's a couple from Africa, the Impundulu and the lightning monsters, sometimes crocodiles. There's lighting serpents from the Aboriginies, but I don't know what would drag one of those things here to New York state."

Maria shook her head. "I don't know either, but it was a good possibility to look into. Anything else?"

Sharon's eyebrows curled up at the center, a hesitant confusion as she spoke a bit slowly, not quite believing what she was about to say. "There's the Columbia River Sand Squink, which is here in the USA. It generates storms from between its ears and also hunts humans."

That got a good moment of silence or two.

"What the hell is a 'squink'?" Bucky asked, feeling just as boggled as Sharon looked.

"I had to look that up," Sharon said, then handed over a print out. "It looks like that. It's a dog-like creature."

"It looks like a coyote had a love affair with a rabbit," Bucky said, staring at the picture, then passed it to Maria.

"You're not wrong," Sharon said. "But I doubt we'd have a lot of cats hanging around with an electric dog creature so close."

"There's also the fact that the cats can go through walls and are therefore also supernatural," Bruce said as Maria passed the picture to him. "Which might make them safer against this very odd looking creature, or make them seem tastier."

Steve took the picture when it was his turn. "Except Sharon said it hunts humans."

"And none of us have been hurt by the electricity," Maria said. "Startled, and some minor property damage that fixed itself immediately, but nobody's been hurt." She looked between Steve and Bucky. "Okay, you two, catch Sharon up on what you saw."

"There's more?" Sharon said, putting away the picture with her notebook. "Nothing that makes any of what I found sound logical, I suppose?"

Bucky shook his head. "Only if one of those creatures can make St. Elmo's Fire hit a riding mower on a cloudless day and leave behind the image of a kid strung up by the neck," he said.

Sharon stared at him, then at Steve, who merely nodded in confirmation, then back at Bucky. "Neither of you were hurt, right?"

"No," Steve said, reaching over and resting his hand on Sharon's hand. It was good how easily he was starting to remember her. Now if he could just get Hydra to stay out of things. "We were both in the shed, debating over the push mower. The grass was clogging it. We didn't get hurt."

She turned her hand to grip his. "Good." Still gripping Steve's hand, she looked at Bucky. "So maybe your idea of a ghost was right, if we're now seeing full-body apparitions. I couldn't find anything on ghosts having that ability specifically, and poltergeists aren't known for it, and they can't fix the damage done."

"It depends on how the ghost died, I suppose," Bruce said. "It might be in the wiring and since it's a ghost, we can't find anything wrong. But the smart thing to do at this point, since we now have a child that has possibly committed suicide or was murdered on campus, we can start looking through the school records up in the computers to see if anything matches what we're seeing. We might be looking at a student."

Bucky looked down at his half-finished sandwich, then over at Steve's, also half-finished. Steve looked ready to abandon it in favor of the computers, and Bucky felt the same.

Maria must've read their minds, because she held up her hands again. "No, you two finish first. With your metabolisms, you can't afford to skimp on meals just because you're in a hurry to do something that's not going anywhere. I even promise we won't go ahead. Now eat."

Both of them knew better than to argue, so reluctantly- Bucky didn't want to eat anymore, but Maria had a point -he went back to eating.

She was right, the computers weren't going anywhere.


	10. Like A Monster, Like A Saint

Sharon laid her head down on the console of the computer, careful of buttons and keys and displays. "Okay," she said ."We've gotten from 1873 to 1931. This school is ancient and it's well past dinner time and we've found nothing. We should break for dinner."

"I agree," Maria said, sitting back in her seat and stretching.

Bucky didn't look away from the reports he was going through. "You guys go on ahead. I'll be down later."

"Oh no you don't," Steve said. "Bucky, leave this. The computer will be here after dinner if you're that dedicated, and tomorrow, since I'm pretty sure you need sleep."

"I'm fine," Bucky said, trying to ignore him. "Go eat, I'm fine."

"Bucky, Steve's right," Maria said, using gentler language but just as firm a tone. "You don't get to skip dinner, not with your metabolism."

Bucky kept his eyes on his screen to make a very strong point. "You act like I can't make myself something later when my stomach tells me to. I'm not hungry right now."

"Bucky-"

Finally turning to face them, Bucky whirled his seat around at an unreasonable speed, his feet slamming onto the floor the only thing keeping him from making a one eighty. "I'll eat later," he growled. "I'm in the middle of this, I'll eat when I'm actually hungry. You both damn well know how badly food sits on my stomach when I'm on a mission."

Everyone drew back slightly, Sharon and Bruce remaining wisely silent and well out of the way. Maria pursed her lips and Steve's fists clenched. Bucky had used the dreaded 'm' word, one that nobody liked hearing out of his mouth, not in that tone, not since they left for Palestine and the Soldier had taken over.

But they actually did all know how his diet was when he was that focused, and 'bad' was an understatement. He got so single-minded that unless they were at a rest period, in which food was required, he didn't stop what he was doing until it was done. That was the way of the Soldier.

Steve looked ready to actually throttle him, as if if he did, Hydra and their training might fall out and leave whoever it was Steve thought he still was behind. Bucky gave him a challenging glare, Maria getting only a sidelong look.

"Okay." Steve raised his hands in placating surrender. "Fine. We'll go on ahead." That placating surrender was laced with poison, but no matter how much of that poison Steve wanted to spit at him, he was giving in.

Maria stayed where she was as Bruce and Sharon inched around behind her to follow Steve out. Bucky braced himself to have to argue with Maria, too, something he didn't want to do, but he was on an actual mission, looking for potential intel to allow them to deal with the potential danger the electric anomalies represented, so he was ready to do it. He didn't have to like it, but he was ready.

After fifteen agonizing seconds that ticked silently in his head, she walked over to him and leaned down, pressing her lips against his cheek gently. "Just remember," she said quietly, "we wanted Bucky back when you were done."

He wasn't ready for that response, wasn't expecting it. He closed his eyes, reaching up to hold her in his arms, at least for a few seconds, just until he could make his eyes stop tearing up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just trying to make this place safe. I need intel for that."

Maria pulled back to crouch in front of him, hands on his knees. "I know you are," she said. "But it's Bucky we need right now, not the Soldier."

Bucky looked away, struggling to find words for all the twisted up thoughts in his brain, the pictures and the way his stomach felt tied up in a knot. "The Soldier has to make himself trustworthy again," he finally managed in a strained voice. "This is the first chance I've had to do that. I-"

He hesitated, again searching for words to what was bouncing around his head. Maria waited patiently. "If I can't convince the Soldier that he has other teammates that need protecting just as much as Steve does, I'm never going to get away from Hydra. This is me trying to fix that part of my brain back to how it was before."

Maria took his hands and rested her forehead on them. "I don't doubt that," she said. "And I know he'll come around. He's you." She looked up at him. "But we need you as our family member right now, not the Soldier as a protector. Later. If there's a threat, the Soldier can eliminate it. But all this is is just gathering intelligence and Bucky Barnes is perfectly capable of doing that without the Soldier's help or permission."

Bucky leaned back in his seat, turning his hands to grab hers. "I know," he said. "I just don't know how else to fix him, or how to show Steve that the Soldier isn't the bad guy."

Maria squeezed his hands, quiet for a moment as she studied him. "I know he's expressed not liking being alone at night, but I'll talk to him," she said. "You and I can get something to eat that won't stain the bed or leave a lot of crumbs, you can grab the project files to keep his nose out of them, and stay with me tonight."

"I can't," Bucky said, shaking his head. "He never abandoned me when I needed him. He put my bed in his room simply because I wasn't able to sleep except on the floor in his room. I can't leave him to sleep alone like that."

"I'm not saying to abandon him," Maria said, rubbing his hands with hers. "But we've all noticed the fighting, and we've all noticed that it's getting worse. You both need time away from each other. Stay with me tonight. I'll talk to him. He's more likely to see reason with me than with you right now."

How Bucky wanted to do exactly what she was suggesting. Step away and stay with her and let Steve handle himself for awhile because it was was becoming increasingly obvious that he didn't want to see the Soldier as Bucky yet. The others had noticed the fights about it, and Maria was right- a night away from each other would probably help that.

But there was work to be done. Something he could actively do to protect his family. It was hard to push that away. "But it's not a rest period," he said rather lamely, his training trying one more time to hold onto his brain.

"Yes, it is," Maria said. "Our mission is to help you and Steve. This is a side mission, and one that can be put away for the moment. You chance missing something in the records if you push yourself as hard as the Soldier wants to."

Well that he couldn't deny.

He glanced away, looking out over the clouds building outside, turning dark and covering the sunset. She was right, the primary mission couldn't be forgotten behind this secondary one.

But he just couldn't yet. He had to set a specific time limit and 'now' was too abrupt for his brain to handle. So he struggled to come up with a reason for just a bit more time.

"Bucky?"

He looked back at he when she said his name. "Slight amendment to the plans? We'll have something that doesn't take time to cook up here, search awhile longer, you and me, and after our food's gone, we'll retire for the night. Just to give me a bit more time to reset my brain."

Maria smiled. "Acceptable compromise. I'll go make us sandwiches." She stood, leaned over him to hug him one more time, then headed out.

Bucky returned to his work, looking over every student file for all thirteen years they were there, following students as they passed grades, younger generations filling in the spots they grew out of. This was going to take forever. Which only really told his brain that there _needed_ to be a rest period.

Good brain, listen to that.

He was up to 1932 on his own when Maria returned with two sandwiches. He was tired of sandwiches, truth be told, but right then, they sounded as good as anything else as he pulled himself down from his mission mindset. Crawling the archives became less of a mission and more of a tedious task that could be given up on when the food was gone. It meant he was a little less focused, but this didn't need hyperfocus like a mission.

Mission fading to tedium didn't do much to improve his appetite, but it made it easier to pick at his sandwich, pulling out the meat and cheese and leaving the bread behind. If Maria noticed, she didn't say anything, just worked on her own records.

"Bucky, what year are you on?"

"Still on 1932," he said. "I'm almost done with this year, I think."

Maria sat back, glanced at the plates, hers empty and his with bread still sitting on it, but again, didn't say anything about it. She knew he'd promised to eat when he was actually hungry. "Why don't you keep up with that, and I'll start looking from the fire backwards? Maybe we can find records of the cats appearing that might tell us something more than what we've been getting so far."

Bucky looked at her proper, having only seen her out of the corner of his eye. "That's actually a good idea. You do that, I'll keep going from where I am."

He kicked his brain around for giving what felt like an order rather than a suggestion in reply to her own. Downtime soon, brain. Downtime.

They both went back to work, Bucky getting progressively more frustrated and less focused. He was ready to give up when Maria spoke up. "Found her."

Bucky whirled in his seat and slid it over to look around her. "That quickly?"

"She was in the most recent years," Maria said, pulling the school picture up into a 3D display. "Catherine Sloupe, known to most as 'Kitty'. Had the ability to walk through walls due to radiation damage in the womb." Maria looked at Bucky. "Just like the cats."

"You think they came in response to her?"

"Or, if she's our ghost, she created them for company while she haunted the place."

"Or that," Bucky agreed. "What else do we know about her? Was she murdered or commit suicide?"

"Neither, or at least, nobody knows," Maria said. "She was presumed missing in the fire, no body was ever found. But her radiation damage would suggest that she's our ghost. The only question at this point is how she died."

"What grade was she in? I'll start working on her earlier records," Bucky said.

Maria peered at the screen. "The last year before the fire, she was in second grade. But she'd been here since kindergarten."

Bucky pushed over to the next computer, pushing their plates aside. "I'll start on those earlier two years, you see what's in that last year."

They went back to work, Bucky scrolling through Catherine's records. "It looks like she was harassed a lot," he said, glancing over at Maria. "You seeing that over there?"

"I am," Maria said with a nod. "Complaints lodged by her mother and by Catherine both. It looks like administration tried to stop it, but thirteen grades of students who have an Enhanced in their midst, it's hard to catch it all the time."

"Have Junior start going through the security camera records," Bucky said, looking back at his own screen. "I want to see if there's any sign of her hanging herself. Anything to do with why she'd give us that apparition of herself strung up over that dumb mower."

Maria had no sooner acknowledged that before she said "found it."

"Already?" Bucky swiveled his chair around again. "What've we got?"

Maria pulled up the video. "Cruel children is what we have."

The video showed several students, one up on a banister that Tony must've had removed up from the stairs leading to the lounge. He had a length of cable in a noose. Two other students were dragging Kitty along. The video had no audio, but years as a sniper had taught him some rudimentary lip reading skills, and they were all calling her either a 'witch' or a 'bitch', and he had a feeling it didn't really matter either way.

Kitty herself was protesting voraciously, Bucky needing no lip reading to tell that, struggling to be let free. Bucky idly wondered why she didn't do what the cats could obviously do and slide through their grips.

"Why isn't she getting away?"

Maria didn't look away from watching. "She might not've been able to go through biological material, or didn't know if she could."

Kitty had the noose pulled over her head, and the boy- who looked a couple good grades older than Kitty -yanked on the cord, pulling her up off her feet. Kitty tried to free her neck from the cable, shrieking wordlessly and flailing, before finally sliding down through the cable. She took off towards the nearest door, which Bucky recognized as the basement door. Some children tried to follow, but the video had no sooner shown that when it went scrambled then went black. There weren't any other records past that to look at.

Bucky and Maria both exchanged a look. "I'll bet you a sawbuck that she ran into the wires downstairs and shorted the entire system," he said.

"I'm not taking that bet," Maria said. "I'd lose. That'd explain the burn mark on the wall. That's where she ran into the heart of the electrical system." She frowned. "My question at this point is why was her body never discovered? They treated it as an electrical fire, they should've investigated that area."

"Maybe they did," Bucky said. "If she got caught up in the wires, it might've completely vaporized her body if she tried to stop before getting through them."

Maria tilted her head back. Bucky waited, she had a thought forming, and he wanted to hear it. "Maybe," she agreed. "Or she somehow fixed the wiring before Tony's crew came, and managed to conceal her ashes and any sign of anything resembling a human body. Either way, that would explain the lack of evidence in the wall around the wires. We didn't exactly cut into the cables when we checked downstairs, just checked for tears in them or exposed wiring."

"And Steve and I didn't find any exposed wires when we dug into that wall."

"Suddenly it makes sense why Sharon calling for that cat caused an electric bolt. Our ghost was saying hi in response to her name."

"Not very good at people interactions, is she?" Bucky said.

Maria looked at him. "She's a child that was bullied her whole life for an ability she didn't ask for. She probably has no idea what good social interactions look like."

Bucky nodded his head at a slight angle once. "Then she's going to learn. I don't care if we live with a ghost, as long as it's friendly and not a danger to us or any of the other Avengers if they have to join us."

"Agreed," Maria said. "We should get this information to the others." She looked at him. "After that, you're staying the night with me. I've already got Steve agreeing to it."

He put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a wicked little smile. "I don't mind spending the night with my pretty lady."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that an offer I hear?"

"Shouldn't it be?"

She leaned over, nuzzling his neck. "Consider that upfront payment for later." She slid across the room on her chair, grabbing the laptop that Bruce had brought in to record data if it was needed. "We need to get this video and her student profile to show to the others first."

Bucky slid back to his own station and stood, grabbing the plates. "They're probably still eating. Hope this doesn't ruin their appetites."

Maria looked up at him briefly before looking back at the computer. She unplugged the laptop from the main computer system and stood. "I think they'll be okay." She finally looked at the plates he was holding. "You left your bread."

He stared at the bread, feeling guilty but still unable to take a bite. "I'll eat tomorrow," he said. "I still wasn't that hungry."

She patted his shoulder. "I'm holding you to that," she said. "You can't afford to skip food like that."

"I ate the protein part," Bucky said, turning to the stairs to head down. "I promise I'll eat when I'm hungry."

"Good."

The others were still eating, or at least were mingling at the table. Steve had obviously cooked a simple meal, it looked like he was the only one still eating, with everyone else lingering over empty plates. Anything complicated would've taken awhile to cook; they all should've been still eating otherwise.

Bruce looked up over his mug of tea. "You found something?"

Sharon looked over at them. "That was quick."

Steve spared them a glance before going back to his food. "How'd you manage it?"

Maria took her usual spot and opened the laptop. "I decided to go from the last records and go backwards while Bucky kept going the direction we'd been going before." She swiveled the screen, tapping at it until Kitty's student record popped up. "Catherine Sloupe, radiation damaged in the womb, ended up with the ability to walk through walls."

"Sloupe?" Bruce sat up in his seat a bit more and leaned forward, barely remembering to move his plate out of the way. "What was her mother's name?"

"Elizabeth," Maria said.

"I remember her," Bruce said, which got him a few raised eyebrows. "She was an assistant on my radiation project. She left as soon as she realized she was pregnant, but I guess she didn't realize soon enough." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "What happened to Catherine?"

"She was relentlessly bullied here," Maria replied. "She was different, children are taught not to like different. We have a theory about what happened to her. She was presumed missing, since there was never a body found after the fire. Some students tried to hang her, I assume as this hilarious practical joke, and she slipped the cord and ran. We think that burn spot was where she ran into the main wiring circuits and set the place on fire with the shock."

Bruce took in a deep breath. "So ultimately, that child is dead because of my experiments."

Sharon got up and walked behind Bruce, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Absolutely not," she said. "Elizabeth Sloupe knew she was in a risky business and quit as soon as she realized she was pregnant. It's nobody's fault that no one knew she was pregnant before the radiation already affected Catherine. So don't you dare blame yourself."

Bruce patted her arm, though he didn't look like he was terribly convinced she was right and he was wrong. "Well, so they hung her, she ran through the walls to get away, found the biggest nerve bundle of wiring in the building and shorted everything out. Why was there no evidence of a body in that wall?"

"I think the shock scared her back into being corporeal right in the wiring itself. There'd be no body if it was stuck in the wires themselves. She was probably vaporized," Bucky said.

"Or she hid the evidence herself when she fixed the electrical system," Maria said. "She might've been scared of something."

"At any rate, those're the best guesses we have at the moment," Bucky said, picking up the thought. "But to note, her nickname was Kitty. I think that'd explain her 'greeting' when you called for that cat, Sharon. She might've been acknowledging you."

Sharon scowled. "She needs to learn some manners."

"Like I told Bucky upstairs," Maria said, "we have to remember she's a child who probably never had a healthy interaction with anyone but her mother in her life. I don't know how we can do it, I doubt a seance will help but she can obviously hear us just fine. We'll just have to explain to her that that's not a good way to communicate."

Steve finally decided to join the conversation. "How are we supposed talk to her without her getting to be part of the conversation? Her little electric tricks don't tell us much except that she's potentially dangerous if she can't pull that under control."

"I have that one," Bruce said. "Tony sent Junior some research on ghosts after finding out about our ghost cats. If you run a digital camera in a silent room, it'll pick up on EVPs- electronic voice phenomenon. Supposedly, the voices you can make out on the recorder upon playback are the voices of ghosts."

"I've heard of that," Bucky said. "I've watched a couple of those dumb ghost hunters shows, just to laugh at their bad science and yeah, you can hear weird shit in those recordings. It's not necessarily caused by ghosts and not malfunctions in the recorders, but now that we actually _have_ a ghost, I'll play along with that stuff working. Better than sitting around a crystal ball and trying to summon the dead to talk to her that way."

"Do we have a digital recorder?" Steve asked.

Bruce shook his head. "No. If I'd realized we'd have an honest to god ghost, I would've asked Tony to include one in the stuff he sent for the lab and the work room. Sharon's gonna have to go get one somewhere."

"I'll check in town first," Sharon said. "I might have to find another town with a Radio Shack or something. The town nearby isn't very big, I'm not sure they'd have an electronics store."

"I can come with," Bruce said. "Give me a few days without shaving, it should be harder to recognize me. We'll need parts to make something that'll measure electromagnetic spikes. It might be useless with this particular ghost, but supposedly, ghosts can cause unexplained spikes in the electromagnetic spectrum in the area. We can get a digital camera too, set up to sense temperature drops and maybe catch something on screen that would indicate her being present in a room proper, or if she stays in the wires exclusively. She might be harder to track or communicate with if that's the case, but it doesn't hurt to try."

Bucky cocked a half-smile of amusement. "And Tony would be cross with us if we didn't at least try to gather something resembling scientific evidence on Kitty."

Bruce echoed that smile. "He would." Then he took a breath. "Okay, so we're pretty sure our ghost is this girl named Kitty. What's our next step?"

"At the moment, nothing," Bucky said. "I'd rather wait on trying to address her until she has a way of communicating back. Just everyone be careful about lights and what you say. And this may not be necessary, but be extra nice to those cats. I have a feeling she either created them or called them to her to be company. Cali's been pretty frien-" He stopped and looked under the table to see said calico rubbing against his legs. "Where have you been?"

Steve glanced down. "In the kitchen. She wasn't getting in the way of cooking or preparing food and I scrubbed the area she'd been sitting on. I guess she stayed in there after we came to sit down."

Cali made another turn around Bucky's legs, then sat back, watching him intently.

"No, Princess," Bucky said. "You don't get any food this time. I ate all the good parts."

"Princess?" Steve raised his eyebrows, giving Bucky a teasing grin and oh thank god for that smile. It was nice to see. "What other nicknames did you give her?"

Bucky gave him a sour look. "There is nothing wrong with pet names. And for your information, 'princess' and 'sweetheart' is as far as I go. I'm not _that_ weird."

Maria propped her elbow on the table and looked at him. "You give cats more verbal love than me," she said, and it felt _so nice_ to be part of a conversation with his family that didn't involve sniping or fighting and awkward tension.

"That's because you're not a princess," he said. "Unless you mean the Xena type of princess."

Maria looked off to the side a bit, considering his statement. "I could live with that. There are worse people to be compared to."

"I know you said right now we do nothing," Bruce said, getting up. "But I'd like to go work on how to make something to detect EMFs. Care to join me?"

Bucky shook his head. "I promised Maria she gets my attention tonight. Unless you guys want help with the dishes first." Then he gave Bruce an offended look. "Besides, I'm an engineer, I can make an EMF detector in my sleep."

"Then you're volunteered," Bruce said.

"Good."

"We've got the kitchen," Sharon said. "It's not like the food produced a lot of dishes this time. And before Bruce and I go to town, you can give us a list of what you need to build this thing."

"Will do."

While Sharon and Bruce got up and collected plates, Bucky glanced briefly at Maria, then turned his attention to Steve. "You gonna be okay tonight?" he asked, voice lowered to keep others from hearing.

Steve took in a deep breath, considering. "Yeah," he said. "I'll be okay."

"All right." Bucky looked at Maria, raising one eyebrow and then flicking his eyes back in Steve's direction, hoping she'd get what he was saying.

She did. "If you change your mind, you are free to come knock on my door," she said. "We'll hear you."

"I'm not taking my Ativan tonight," Bucky said. "So I won't sleep as hard. I'll wake easier. Just knock on the door."

Steve frowned. "I'm not sure I like the idea of interrupting anything you two do."

Maria smiled. "Don't worry, we won't be up all night. And we can always get dressed. It may be awkward, but both Bucky and I would prioritize your mental health over sex. We always have the day times to sneak off, if we lose one night, it's not going to damage our relationship."

That actually got Steve to smile, not a teasing smile, but a genuine one that Bucky recognized as the one his best friend, his brother, his partner would give when something Bucky did made him happy. "I was a bit worried about that. I don't remember everything, but I'm pretty sure Bucky used to have us on a schedule of when he spent time with who. I know Bucky likes his habits, I don't want to completely turn them upside down." Then he gave Bucky the stink eye. "And I won't get kicked in the shins tonight."

"Name _one_ time since we were kids that I did that."

"Have you since coming home from Hydra?" The tone of the conversation, while still attempting to be light-hearted, turned a bit serious. Not dangerously so, but serious anyway. Steve was genuinely asking for a hole in his memory to be filled in.

"No," Bucky answered. "Not that you've complained of, and we only shared a bed three times since then, too. We had twin beds at the apartment."

"Then I guess you're right, I can't." He shrugged, then waved them off. "Go, have fun. I can hold down the fort this evening. I'll keep Bruce from bugging you about this project."

Someone else in charge, hallelujah.

"Then we'll see you tomorrow," he said, getting up and grabbing Maria's hand.


	11. The Smell Of Sunshine

Time alone with Maria was always relaxing, a treat that he hadn't been indulging in nearly as much as he needed to lately. They rarely hopped right into sex, spending more time talking and cuddling that both greatly enjoyed.

Conversation would give way to dirty flirting, then slowly into teasing Maria until she got annoyed at him for denying her and demanding he either have mercy, or she'd turn the tables and she'd be even worse than he thought he was.

He always indulged her.

In fact, that's how they spent most of their hours in the bed together, with Bucky less concerned for himself and more focused on Maria. He had gotten quite good at giving her multiples more than once a night. She'd try to reciprocate, but even an enhanced male body with high endurance couldn't quite manage what her body was capable of. (Although sometimes he thought she came damn close to proving him wrong on that.)

It was the middle of the night- her alarm clock showed 3:14 in the morning -when they finally came back down to earth. Maria snuggled down under his left arm's grip, nuzzling his neck and placing tiny kisses up along his jaw.

He practically purred at the contact. "I thought we were done," he said. "You said you were tired."

"I am," she said, snuggling back down to his shoulder. "For now. At least before I take a shower."

There was a low grumble of thunder overhead, those dark clouds from earlier that evening apparently giving way to a proper storm. Maria frowned, sitting up. "I think we might be done. Can you get your pants on and go check out the hallway window? Watch for the lightning, then count how many seconds there are before you hear thunder."

Bucky raised his eyebrows, but finished detangling himself from holding her. "Afraid of the storm? I didn't take you for one to be afraid of thunder."

"I'm not," she said as he pulled on his night pants from his overnight bag. "But you're not supposed to shower in a lightning storm and I want to know if I have time before the storm gets here to shower, or if I should wait until tomorrow."

He stood and flashed her a flirtatious look. "You could always shower tomorrow and I can join you."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I'll join you for your shower tomorrow morning. But I want to shower tonight if possible. Please go check?"

"Anything for you, pretty lady," Bucky said, then stepped out of the room and went down the hall to the lone window there.

Outside, there was a lot of wind, though no rain had fallen yet. He waited until he saw a flash of lightning and began counting the seconds. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Jesus, how long did this take? Six. Seven. Then eight hit and there was the growl of the sky responding to the flash. He turned and went back to Maria's room. "I counted eight," he said once he's shut the door behind him.

"Good," she said, crawling out of bed. "That's almost two miles, I should have just enough time to shower before that hits here."

He leaned back against the wall, watching her head into the bathroom, appreciative of her complete lack of clothing before the bathroom door shut. Once the door was closed, he took his overnight bag to the desk and pulled out the Winter Soldier files. It wasn't really an appropriate time for a trip down that particular memory lane, but he had little else to do while the sheets dried out from sweat and various other bodily fluids.

After a minute or two, deciding he still couldn't find anything in there that would help at all with the ongoing animosity between him and Steve, he put them away and sat back, pushing his mind away from that problem and back to Maria, to how it'd feel to lay back down and hold her in his arms again. Just for the comfort. For the way it made it seem like nothing else mattered.

He jumped when he heard Maria shriek, followed by a loud thunk, and he was on his feet immediately and into the bathroom, all but ripping the door of its hinges with the urgency to get to her.

She was splayed down in the bath tub, against the far wall from the spray, looking dazed. On the wall behind her was a trail of blood.

Oh god.

"Maria!" He almost tripped on the bath rug in his haste to get to her. "Maria, you okay? Talk to me." He didn't want to move her until he'd confirmed that her neck hadn't suffered any injury in her fall.

"I- I'm okay," she said, sounding uncertain about her own assessment.

Bucky reached over and turned off the shower spray, then turned back to Maria. "Your neck doesn't hurt, does it?"

She shook her head, slowly, but she did it, which told him better than her answer of 'no' that her neck was likely fine. Deciding she could be moved, he carefully picked her up in his arms and out of the bath tub. He laid her down on the bath rug, petting back her hair once she was down. "Do you need me to get Bruce? You're bleeding."

"Maybe," she said, eyes darting around the room as if trying to find something she could focus on.

"All right, I'll get him," Bucky said, grabbing two towels off her towel rack. He folded one up and gently put it under her head to stop the bleeding, then draped the other across her torso for modesty until she decided it was okay for a full body inspection if Bruce thought she needed one. He couldn't imagine why, but he wasn't the doctor, Bruce was.

Bucky didn't even get a chance to get to the door before he heard his friends outside, someone knocking on the door and Steve's voice calling his name and asking what happened and was everything all right?

He opened the door to see all three of the other Avengers crowded around the door. "Bruce, we need you. Maria fell in the shower and hit her head."

"Is she bleeding?" Bruce asked, crowding away the other two but not entering without permission.

"Yeah," Bucky said. "I don't know what caused the fall, she seems too out of it to say."

Bruce muscled his way in. "I've got this. Bucky, you're with me. You two go back to your rooms, get your comms, we'll call as soon as we have her checked over."

Thank you, Bruce. Bucky wasn't sure how to handle those two in his frantic worry over Maria.

He shut the door on them and followed Bruce back. "I didn't ask what made her fall," Bucky said. "She's really dazed and I was more concerned with her head and possible neck injury."

"You did the right thing then," Bruce said, stepping into the bathroom.

Maria carefully turned her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if that made the room spin, then offered Bruce a weak smile. "How far did he have to go to get you?"

"You already sound better than what Bucky described," Bruce said, kneeling by her. "And to answer your question, we were all at the door. We heard your scream, it didn't sound like a fun time scream."

Bucky stepped around Maria to crouch down opposite Bruce, and took her hand. She gave it a weak squeeze. "It wasn't," he said. "I was at the desk when I heard it. She screamed, then must've hit the wall, because I heard a loud thump right after it."

Bruce studied Maria's eyes, holding up a finger. "How many fingers do you see?"

"One," she answered. "I don't have double vision, Bruce, everything's just spinning and my head hurts. I've had migraines that hurt worse."

"Maybe," Bruce said. "But you _did_ hit your head. I'm not that worried about the blood, head injuries cause bleeding easier than most other injuries, even minor ones. Now, tell me what happened? Did you slip and fall? Soap, maybe?"

Maria frowned, closing her eyes. "No. Something hit me on the head from the water. It felt hot. I think I underestimated how far away that storm was."

Bruce leaned over her, examining her head. "There's a burn mark here in your hair line. You think you got hit by electricity?"

"Maybe?"

Bruce continued to study the mark, gently feeling the skin around it, pushing live hair away from the spot where she got hit, a spot where her hair had gotten burned off. "It's a first degree burn, I'd expect more from a lightning strike. Do you mind if I look at the rest of you for signs of that?"

"You're the doctor," she said, keeping her eyes closed and her hand in Bucky's.

"I'll try not to get too personal," Bruce said, then pulled aside her towel, examining her for ... what, Bucky wasn't sure. He just continued to grip Maria's hand and watch Bruce, hoping like hell that Bruce would declare her unhurt except for the concussion and the burn on her head. It'd leave the mystery of what caused it, but at least it'd assure him that Maria wasn't seriously injured.

Bucky saw Maria give him a turning her head to look at him out of the corner of his eye that accompanied a tighter grip on his hand. He looked down at her and gave her a reassuring smile. "You'll be okay," he said. "Bruce is the best."

"I know." She closed her eyes again.

"Thank you for the compliment," Bruce said, somewhat distracted. "I'm seeing signs of very faint Lichtenberg Figures along your torso and up to your neck," he said. "Too light for me to think it was lightning, but I won't rule it out." He covered her back up and looked at her. "You said something hit you? And it felt hot? Did you see any light before it hit?"

"No."

Bruce frowned, leaning over to once again look at the burn spot where hair had been. "Well, good news, it's a first degree burn, all you really need is some cold water to bring down the heat and some neosporin, which I have in my office. It's going to be tender, and I'm going to try to wrap it with a non-stick pad and a type of medical tape that only sticks to itself and not your hair or skin to hold it in place, just to keep your hair from making contact and irritating the skin."

"You sounded like there might be bad news," Bucky said.

Bruce tapped his fist over his mouth for a moment. "She's got what I would consider a mild concussion, nothing some painkillers and sleep won't fix, but I'm wondering why that strike was such a weak one. Lightning doesn't really pull punches."

Bucky felt himself grow hot with anger. "You think our ghost did this?"

"Possibly," Bruce said. "It'd explain why the hit was so relatively weak."

"Bucky, my hand," Maria protested quietly with a whimper.

Bucky loosened his grip on her. "Sorry."

Bruce stood. "Bucky, help her get dressed, please? I'd like to get a better look at that burn and wrap it. Contact the others, even though I think they probably didn't go back to their rooms. I don't have my comm on me."

Bucky nodded, then looked at Maria. "Think we can get you upright?"

"With help," Maria admitted.

Bucky turned his comm on while he and Bruce helped her to her feet. "Steve, Sharon? You there?"

"Just waiting for answers," Sharon said. "We're both waiting in the hall."

Sigh. Bucky saw that one coming.

Bucky and Bruce both wrapped an arm around her shoulders and helped her sit up before pushing for a standing position. "Maria got jolted with something in the shower," Bucky answered through the comm. "It knocked her back, she just hit her head, she's fine. We're taking her to the medlab now."

"Jolted?" Steve asked. "Like by electricity?"

"Just like that," Bucky said. "Ready, Bruce?"

"As soon as Maria's ready," he replied.

Maria took two deep breaths. "I'm ready."

Carefully, they helped Maria to her feet. She wobbled, but stayed upright with their help. Bruce grabbed the bloodied towel from behind her head off the ground and handed it to Bucky. "Have her keep that pressed against the wound while you dress her. I'll update the others and attempt to shoo them away."

"Good luck with that," Bucky said, holding the towel in his hand, arm around her waist, his other hand occupied holding hers. He turned off his comm, since Bruce was there to update them.

Bucky waited until he heard the room door shut and Bruce outside, talking to the others before he led Maria into the bedroom. The other two were right outside there, Bucky didn't want to give them an eyeful by having her parading naked by an open door.

Maria started to shiver. "Bucky?"

Bucky stopped, helping her stay upright. "Yeah?"

"I can make it to the bed. Will you grab that towel in there and help me dry off? Clothes don't fit right on wet skin."

Bucky didn't question her, just let her go and watched her wobble a bit before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Satisfied that she wasn't going to fall again, he went back into the bathroom and grabbed the towel. She had the folded towel still pressed firmly against the back of her head.

"Still bleeding?" he asked, getting up on the bed and sitting behind her to start helping her dry off.

"I'm not sure," she said, still shivering. Before he could even ask, she told him, "I'm cold, don't worry about the shaking. I'm fine otherwise, just cold and wet."

"You read my mind," he said. "Glad to hear that's all it is." He carefully dried her off, squeezing excess water from her hair without pulling on the back of her head where the bleeding was, then working his way down her shoulders and back. Once her skin felt dry back there, he got off the bed and helped her dry her front side and her legs. She had to stand to get the back of her legs and her wet backside dried.

She was still shivering when he pulled out her night pants and shirt- a basic set of sweat pants with the SHIELD logo on them and a plain white shirt. He paused, looking at the shirt, then put it back, looking for and finally finding her darker shirt. No longer wet or not, that white shirt might be a bit revealing around the others.

Once she was dressed (and feeling warmer), he helped her stay steady down the hallway, special care taken at the stairs, to the point that the last set of stairs he had to carry her because her legs didn't want to hold her quite right, but she insisted on not needing carrying the rest of the way to the medlab.

Steve and Sharon were already there, outside the door to the medlab. They obviously weren't being let in.

"Is she okay?" Steve asked, watching them both with concern.

"I'm fine," she said. "Just a little unsteady."

"We'll see," Bruce said from the doorway of the medlab as Bucky helped Maria into the room, Steve and Sharon parting like the Red Sea in front of them, then rejoining, Steve holding Sharon, both looking worried.

Bucky would cheer that normal interaction between them later.

Bruce backed up to let them in. "Come take a seat, I wanna get a closer look at her injuries."

Maria didn't argue as Bucky got her to a chair. "You're the doctor," she said.

"Oh good, a cooperative patient," Bruce said, parting her wet hair in the back and gently pressing around for signs of the bleeding wound. "Certain patients around here are argumentative." He flashed Bucky a pointed look.

"Don't look at me," Bucky said. "I have a higher limit of what I can take before I need your help, and you don't agree with me as to where that is." Bucky almost pointed out Steve wasn't any better, but decided against it. If it annoyed Steve, there might be another squabble, and he didn't have the energy for that shit, and it would take focus off of Maria.

"I don't see any more bleeding," Bruce said. "There's blood in your hair, you'll need to wash that out, but I suspect you may not want a shower just now."

"I'd rather wait," Maria agreed. "After the storm's passed."

Bruce moved around to examine the burn just past her hairline. "Showering in a lightning storm isn't recommended, no." He picked up a partly folded towel wrapped around something thick, and placed it gently over the burn. She winced. "It's an ice pack," Bruce said. "I don't want to run water over it, not with the storm, but the ice can draw some of the heat out, then I'll put on that ointment and bandage it."

Sharon poked her head in the room, Steve just above her, releasing her enough to look in. "So what happened? She just got shocked in the shower?"

"She has some faint Lichtenberg Figures on her neck and chest," Bruce said. "They're tiny marks that branch out where electric current went through a material. It's like a snapshot of the current. I would expect something more severe and a deeper burn with lightning, but it's hard to say. Either way, she got lucky and the current was in the range that you can survive a blast. Too low and it'll kill you and too high and it'll kill you. Getting struck by lightning is survivable, and with the storm, it could've easily been that. I would just expect more than a first degree burn from it."

"Think it's our unfriendly ghost who thinks it's funny to shoot electricity across the room at us?" Steve asked. Bucky gave him a sidelong look, wondering if he was hearing an accusation that they should've left the first time or if he was misreading Steve all together and that was nothing but concern.

He decided to ignore it, whichever it was.

"It's possible," Bruce said, pulling on gloves. "I wouldn't rule it out, although it'd be the first time she actually hurt anyone."

"If it's her, we should go," Steve said. He looked at Bucky, clearly winding up for an argument.

Bucky wasn't in the mood for it, so he kept what he wanted to say to himself, and motioned towards Maria instead. "Her call. If she thinks it wasn't Kitty, or Kitty wasn't trying to be malicious, then we'll stay until we can get her not to do that shit. If she thinks Kitty did this deliberately, damn right we're getting out of here. But we tried to run once on a scare without fully investigating, I'm not doing it again if there's no reason to."

Maria held perfectly still while Bruce carefully dabbed some ointment on the burn, although her face occasionally contorted into one of low grade pain. "I don't think it was her," she said. "I should've known better than to shower in bad weather. I thought I could beat it and I shouldn't have."

She looked at them out of the corner of her eye. "And if it _was_ Kitty, I don't think she meant to hurt me. She's a child who died a horrible way and probably doesn't know any other way of communicating with us right now. I don't think it was malicious, and as much as I'd like to go home, Bucky's right. We ran once on a scare that we could've handled ourselves, and we shouldn't do it again until we're absolutely sure it's something we can't take care of."

"I don't know," Sharon said. "If we're not even safe to shower, should we really stick around?"

"Just don't shower during a lightning storm," Maria said, wincing again as Bruce pressed a nonstick piece of gauze on the burn spot. "Bucky, tell them we're not leaving. My head hurts too much to argue about it right now."

Bucky looked back at the other two. "You heard the lady, we're staying. She doesn't think there's danger, there probably isn't any. We'll just keep our eyes out and try to contact Kitty once we have that recorder. If that really works and she says anything worrisome, we'll bail."

He didn't actually mean that; if Kitty turned out to throw too many dangerous temper tantrums, the little bitch was going to go, one way or another. But he wasn't about to make any indication that he'd be willing to burn the place to the ground to get rid of her where she could hear.

While Bruce finished securing the bandage to Maria's injury, Bucky looked at Steve. "You still gonna be okay without me tonight?" he asked, voice lowered.

Steve nodded. "I'll be fine. Even if I weren't, she shouldn't be left alone."

Bucky patted his arm. "I'm gonna have my comm on until I fall asleep, dunno when. But if you wake up, I might be around. Just check your comm."

"You should sleep."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to for awhile. Relax, I'll get some sleep at some point."

"At some point?"

Bucky shrugged, but didn't get to otherwise answer when Bruce declared Maria fit to go back to bed with some Advil for her headache, and she was under strict orders to sleep.

"I think I can handle that," she said, standing up, a bit unsteady, but kept her balance walking over to Bucky and Steve. "I'm taking him back," she told Steve.

Steve sidestepped, motioning with one arm out of the medlab. "He's all yours, ma'am."

"Generous," she said, looping her arm through Bucky's left arm, using him for balance.

"You gonna be okay to climb stairs?" Bucky asked.

"I'll make it," Maria replied.

It was slow going, Maria having to test each step to make sure it was more stable than it looked to her, but once she found her footing on the top step, she walked with a bit more certainty. She kept her grip on his arm, but she walked a straight enough line to pass a drunk driving test.

He knew she was in enough pain still that she shouldn't be able to do that; there were many reasons he was dating her, and her ability to keep going through whatever was being thrown at her was one of them.

Once they were back in her room and Bucky had assured the others following them back up the stairs that everything was going to be fine, he locked her door. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, bent over with her head in her hands.

"You're not as okay as you pretended you were, are you?" Bucky asked, sitting down next to her.

She took in a deep breath. "I can keep going," she said. "But I don't have to right now." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye with a faint smile. "It's a rest period, I can nurse my wounds now."

"You're starting to speak my language and that scares me," Bucky said. "Is there anything I can get you before I make you lay down and sleep off that headache?"

"My towel?" she said. "The back of my head is bloody, and I don't feel like rinsing it right now, I need something on my pillow to keep the blood off my pillow case."

"Consider it done," he said, getting up.

He got her settled into bed, two Advil with a healthy swallow of water, towel folded on her pillow, and his metal arm draped over her to give her the feeling of safety. Bucky stayed propped up on his flesh arm, watching her with his comm on, listening in for anyone turning theirs on. He had it on mostly for Steve, in case Steve needed him for something important enough to drag him out of bed.

"Buck?"

And there was that expected call.

Bucky replied with a very quiet voice, careful to not wake up Maria. "Yeah?"

"She's really okay, right?"

"She's sleeping off the headache. She'll feel like hell tomorrow, but yes, she's fine."

There was a long pause, but he could still hear Steve's faint heart beat; the the chips were positioned close enough to carotid artery for the sound to sometimes be heard in the absence of words.

"Talk to me," Bucky said. "Something's on your mind."

Another pause, but it was finally interrupted by Steve's voice. "Are you sure we should stay here?"

Damnit, not this again.

"I trust Maria's judgement," Bucky said. "She spent years as the deputy director of SHIELD, she knows how to assess a situation for danger. She might be wrong, sure, and we'll keep our eyes open, but for now, I think we should trust Maria on this one. If she's wrong, we'll pack up and leave. Tony's gotta have somewhere that's not haunted for us if this situation turns dangerous. And if not, we'll go back to the Tower and just sit in isolation there until we get our problems solved enough that we're not potential dangers."

Steve didn't answer that right away; Bucky hadn't expected him to, being called a potential danger to his home and friends probably didn't rest well with Steve. "You really think we're both a danger?"

Bucky resisted a sigh. "I know I am," he admitted. "And everything I've seen you do since I came back for my sake, I'm willing to bet you would be too. Don't let just that file teach you about Hydra. Now shut up and go to sleep. I don't wanna wake up Maria by accident and I don't feel up for another fight."

He gave Steve a few moments to form an answer, and when there was none coming, he continued. "Do you need me over there?" he asked, voice calmer, worried that he'd heard fear when Bucky pointed out that Steve was a danger too.

"No," Steve said. "Not as much as she does. I'm a grown man, I can handle a night on my own."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Go to sleep, Bucky. We're okay. I'll take over watching the group while you take care of Maria."

That actually got a faint smile out of Bucky. Hearing Steve acting like his partner again did his heart good. "Good night, Steve. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night."

Bucky laid his head down on his pillow, carefully arranging his flesh arm to a comfortable position without waking Maria and turned off his comm.

He fell asleep to the sounds of Maria breathing.


	12. Look At This Photograph

Bucky peeled off his shirt, sweaty and sticky from the outside heat. Scaling walls, or at least attempting to, was hard work, it turned out, and it left him feeling a bit disgusting. He'd discovered no real good place to scale, so many windows around the place, which at once relieved and annoyed him. No place to scale meant a more secure building. It also meant there was no way for him to get to a high place outside, something he was feeling the need for more and more as his and Steve's relationship bounced between normal and fighting so fast that it gave him whiplash.

Sometimes it was almost normal. There were smiles. There were jokes and laughing and even sometimes basic manners. There was late night talking before falling asleep.

Then there'd come the fights, Steve shutting down Bucky's attempts at picking on him and Bucky getting progressively angry at the stuff he found in Steve's sketchbook that more and more focused on the Soldier and less on Hydra in general until he'd blow up at Steve and Steve would storm off to hide in his art, or if it was night, he'd go to the lounge to sleep on the couch.

Bucky was usually left too worked up and hurt to even want to go to Maria's room. So he'd take more Ativan than he was supposed to and slept off the loneliness.

Bucky would've really liked to be able to get to a high place easily on the building, just to get away.

But there hadn't been a way to get up there, short of flying, anyway, so he'd just shower and then go find Maria; Bruce had decided his facial hair had turned into enough of a forest to hide his identity and gone into town with Sharon to look for a Radio Shack and several other places for what was needed to build the EMF detector.

Bucky had given them a list of parts; he was an engineer, and that had dropped the job on his head. It didn't bother him, he liked playing with engineering toys, no matter how basic. But he wasn't sure how much he wanted to do it that night.

Tomorrow. They could come back any time they wanted and expect him to work, but they could just all damn well wait until the next day. Bucky was going to relax once he was clean. Maybe find Maria. Leave Steve to his own devices.

There was a knock at the door that made him pause, about to strip out of his pants. "It's open, Steve."

"I'm not Steve," Maria's voice said from the other side of the door.

Hm. Too bad he shared the room with Steve. He'd invite her in to share that shower with him.

He walked over to the door, opening it and leaning on the door frame. "So if I didn't have a roommate, I'd be pulling you in to share the shower I'm about to take with me."

Maria leaned back, giving him a look over. "I'm disappointed by this myself," she said. "I was actually going to invite you to my place. Steve's working with his pastels in the lounge and I just finished a book. I thought rather than start a new one, I'd look for someone who could spare more verbal power than 'hi.'"

Bucky smiled. "Lemme get cleaned up, and I'll indulge you on that. And anything else you want me to indulge you with."

She leaned forward, tilting her head up to nuzzle his neck. "Mm. I'd say we could save some time and you could shower later, but you smell awful." She leaned back, a smile on her face that better belonged in the bedroom and an eyebrow raised in challenge for him to retort to that.

He tilted his head down to look at her. "I'm not going to disagree with that." Then he lifted his head, stepping back to open the door. "You're welcome to wait here, though. Steve doesn't exactly walk in here naked, so you won't be intruding on anyone's privacy."

"Thank you," she said, stepping in and looking around. "That second dresser makes the room feel a bit claustrophobic."

Shutting the door and locking it, he glanced over at his dresser. "Not too bad. You should've seen our bedroom at the apartment in DC. It was smaller than this and housed us both."

She sat down on the bed. "I haven't had to live in a room that small since college. You actually don't mind this?"

Bucky shook his head, stripping out of his pants. "Nope. My apartment after I got home from college wasn't very big, and Steve's was smaller. We stayed over at each other's places a lot, so we're used to being in small spaces with each other."

Maria smiled, leaning back on her hands. "You know, if you were from any other decade, I'd worry I had competition."

"Not right now you wouldn't," he said without thinking, then bit the inside of his mouth, wishing he hadn't said that.

"That bad?"

Of course she knew. They all did. The stable and strong friendship between Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was dying like a tree struck with lightning and split in half. There really wasn't a lot of point in pretending anything else.

So he simply ducked it by looking at her and saying "talk later, shower first. You said I smell bad, that's a horrible assessment for a guy to get from his girl." Before she could say more, he simply disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Before getting into the shower, he stopped and stared at the man in the mirror, tired and haggard from the thoughts in his head. He'd fix this. Somehow, even if Steve didn't want him to, he'd fix this. He hadn't spent a lifetime with Hydra only for them to rob him of his new life free from their shadow. They wouldn't have the Soldier back, drag him from the present to drown in the past.

And god willing, he wouldn't be fighting against Steve on it. He could tell Steve was trying. Past the nightmares and the fights, he was _trying._ He'd just never dealt with Hydra in his head and it was making it hard to see the path out. Bucky would show him. He'd help him. Things would be fine.

Things would be fine.

First, though, shower. Maria's statement wasn't wrong, he was disgusting.

Showering didn't take long, rarely did, and he was dried off, hair brushed- jesus christ, his hair needed cutting, but he wasn't sure he wanted Steve near him with scissors at the moment -and pulled back within about ten minutes.

"Didn't wait long, did you?" he asked, knowing Maria hadn't, once he stepped back out into the room and started digging in his dresser for clothing.

"No," Maria said, and he glanced back in time to see her look up at him. There wasn't any sign of even the threat of teasing him or making suggestive comments, which made him think that something was on her mind. They usually spared each other remarks that weren't serious.

"Good." Clothes, yes, also good. "What'd I miss?" He turned and motioned towards one of Steve's sketchbooks in her hands. "You do know that Steve doesn't like people seeing unfinished work, right?"

"I know," she said. "I found these three over here." She waved one in her hand, two more on the bed. "I know it was an invasion of privacy, but I was hoping something would tell me how to help you two. None of us like what we're seeing going on here. You two and your friendship has been the stable foundation of our family. We don't want to see that fall apart. Steve will have to forgive me later."

Bucky finished dressing and joined her on the bed, not yet sure how to comment on that. "What'd you find?" he asked, still putting his mind to work to figure out how to answer her.

Maria frowned, opening up one that Bucky recognized as the nightmare sketches, the things Bucky hated seeing. "Well, these I can imagine are just nightmares," she said. "He really doesn't like the Soldier, does he?"

Bucky pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, he doesn't. I've been trying to fix that, but he's been stubbornly ignoring me on it."

"Mm." Maria set that sketchbook aside and grabbed an older looking one. She opened it and set it out in front of him. "You're practically an obsession in this one. I don't know what's going on in these pictures, I assume they're memories of things that have happened, but almost every picture after about halfway through is of you and him."

"Really?" Bucky took that one, flipping through it, then smiled, just a tiny uptick of his cheek muscles on one side. "Oh, these. Yeah, most of these are from the apartment. This one was a vacation we took. He beat the shit outta me at putt putt." He flipped a couple pages. "This is Junior, when we first found her. That's the day Tony showed up to pick her up. She slept with me that night. I worried she'd develop an attachment too strong to be happy with Tony and Pepper." He set the book back down. "With how he spoils her, it's pretty obvious that he warded that one off."

Then he nodded at the third one. "What's in that one?"

That one made Maria frown, as she opened it and pointed to a picture of Sharon in her ball gown from the charity ball that last Christmas. Pepper and Maria accompanied her. "This one seems to be things he's trying to remember since rejoining the Avengers after SHIELD went down. The most recent things are here first, older stuff towards the end."

"So? That's good, he needs to remember. Please tell me there's a lot of pictures of Sharon."

That frown never went away, deepened in fact. "There are," Maria said hesitantly. "The odd thing is that there's not one picture of you in here. Even when there should be."

"What?" That didn't make sense. Steve was meticulous about preserving things in his drawings. He took the sketchbook from her once offered and flipped through it.

"It's like he's written you out of his memories," Maria said. "That's a horrible thing to say, I know, but there should be something of you in there and there's not."

Horrible, heart-wrenching, and probably more true than Bucky wanted to think about. "Maybe," he said, working the words out of his mouth as fast as his brain would let him. "He might be trying to remember everyone else first. He's got this whole notebook of stuff with me, like you said."

There. That had to be it. Had to be, or Bucky might go crazy. He refused to believe that Steve had just kicked him out of his own head. Their friendship may have been having a rough spot, but it wasn't dead yet, and wouldn't die, Bucky wouldn't let it. Steve wouldn't let it. He felt confident that he still knew Steve well enough to know that he wouldn't let it either.

"I have a better idea than my room," Maria said. "Unless you were set on it."

"Not set on it, but I wasn't about to protest it," he said, sitting back slightly, careful to not fall off the bed. "But when you have an idea you decide is better than sex and cuddles, I figure it's worth listening to."

"Glad you agree with that," she said. "But cuddles aren't out of the question. Steve might still be in the lounge. How about we go there and read, just spend some quiet time together, the three of us? Maybe having me there would take pressure off of you two to have to interact, let you have some peaceful time together?"

That actually did sound better than her initial idea of hiding in her room with her. Most of his 'peaceful' time with Steve was in the bedroom at night, and that was full of nightmares and arguments, and probably more tears than either would ever admit to.

"I like the way you think," he said. "I haven't read that last book Peter sent to me yet, been kinda putting it off, since I'm not sure when he'll be able to get the next one to me."

Maria gathered up the sketchbooks she had still scattered on the bed and carefully returned them to their place on Steve's night stand, the older one that Bucky had recognized put into the drawer.

Goddamnit, that was gonna make talking to him about it later harder. Bucky wasn't going to indict Maria in finding it, he'd take the blame himself, but Steve wasn't going to be inclined to listen after knowing that Bucky had been into a sketchbook that Steve had hidden. Especially after all the arguing they'd done about Steve getting into the Winter Soldier Project files.

Sigh.

Instead of saying anything about it, he got up off the bed and offered her his hand to help her up. She accepted, keeping hold as they left the room and headed to the lounge. Maria didn't say anything on the way there, but did give his hand a reassuring squeeze when he paused at the stairs to the lounge, the biomechtium in his hand shifting at the pressure change.

He took in a deep breath and looked at her, offering her a smile that said he was okay. He wasn't sure he was, uncertain if this would work out the way Maria said it would, but he could hope.

Steve was still drawing with his pastels, giving it a critical look that only stopped when he looked up at Bucky and Maria entering the room. "I thought you were going to take Bucky to your room," Steve said to Maria, glancing at Bucky.

Bucky looked desperately to see what that glance had in it, irritation or maybe he was happy to see him, or even just apathetic. Bucky'd take apathetic.

But he couldn't quite read it, gave up on it after a few seconds, before Maria even finished saying "we decided to keep you company."

"I'm not much company right now," Steve said, holding up his book a bit in a pointed fashion. "I'd like to finish this before Sharon gets back, if I can."

"We're just going to read," Maria said, and Bucky decided to prove that by going to the bookshelf and grabbing the last of his Dresden Files books.

He held up for Steve to see. "Figure I'd better get this one done. Peter's gonna find a way to get the next one for me soon. I have no idea how he thinks he's gonna do it, but he will."

Steve snorted. "He's a Barnes man, he has his ways."

Another statement Bucky couldn't quite read, so he left it and sat down on the end of the couch closest to Steve's seat, putting him on Steve's left side, but leaving his metal shoulder for Maria to lean against while reading. He didn't like sitting on Steve's left side, it felt unnatural, but there wasn't anywhere to sit on his right side anyway.

"That's an understatement," Bucky said, getting comfortable. At least physically. Mentally, he wanted to leave and maybe go to the training room and exhaust himself, or go cook an early dinner, a feast to impress Tony, just because the cooking would calm his nerves.

But they already had a lot of pre-cooked meals in their fridge from him doing that, they couldn't really fit any more food in there.

So feeling vaguely uncomfortable it was.

But he'd try. He'd try and Steve better damn well let him and try himself. This feeling of not being comfortable around each other couldn't last. So he pretended to bury himself in his book, Maria sitting relaxed against his shoulder, her legs draped over the couch arm. He occasionally made a point of looking over at Steve, his gaze aimed at Steve's art book.

Steve, as Bucky expected, started looking up at him. "May I help you?"

"Just wondering what you're drawing," Bucky said. "You know I'm nosy. Also curious how the pastels are working for you."

Steve sat back, setting aside the chalk he had in his hand. His fingers were a mess of colors. "They're okay. I can tell I'm gonna have to practice with them, but I like the blending effects." He used one of his colored fingers to smear something on his picture. "It's easier than with paints."

"And you don't have to isolate yourself in the dining room."

"That too." Steve looked at him. "And to answer your other question, nosy, I'm drawing a picture of Sharon with her brown hair. Trying to get used to it. I remember her blond hair the best, and I'm not sure I like the new look."

"It's weird," Bucky agreed. He noticed Maria was staying out of it, reading a book he knew she'd read before. He actually doubted she was reading at all, but merely listening in. He knew her too well to think she wasn't monitoring the situation for trouble. "But it'll grow out. It's necessary right now, that's all."

"I know." Steve didn't look happy about it. "But at least it's flattering." He smeared some color again, then looked at his fingers. "These are messy. Might have to start using these in the dining room, too, just to have access to a sink."

"Use a wet rag, Steve," Bucky said, rolling his eyes. Sometimes, Steve, sometimes.

Steve made an assenting noise. "Probably a better idea," he said. Then he lifted the book again, still in a pointed fashion. "Sorry, bit distracted."

"That's fine," Bucky said, then held up his book just as pointedly. "I should stop distracting myself. Harry calls."

Before he could even really focus on the words, satisfied with the conversation enough to actually read now, Steve spoke up. "Thank you."

He looked over, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Maria actually looked away from her book as well. "For what?"

"For getting me these," Steve said. "I think I like them better than the paints."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "You remember that I got those for you?"

Steve shrugged with one nod of his head. "Yeah, Christmas. Kinda."

Kinda. That was bullshit, Bucky could smell it a mile away. If Steve remembered that much, and it was obvious he did, why wasn't that in the book? Why was Bucky not being put in his memories? Why was Bucky getting wiped out like sidewalk chalk in the rain?

Book. Read the book. Don't focus on that. Then and there was not the place for that discussion, it was best to let Steve work and just ask him about it sometime later. Interrupting Steve's work with arguments just made them that much worse. Steve was touchy about getting interrupted when he was trying to do that stupid art thing he did.

Bucky would ask at bedtime. Might as well keep up their ritual of most of their arguments happening just before they were supposed to sleep. Get them nice and riled up and unable to sleep. Perfectly idiotic, which is why they did it. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes never did things the easy way.

Better idea: get him on neutral grounds. That night he could spend with Maria to keep him from asking before he was ready.

Book. Read the book.

Fortunately, a loud noise disrupted his sorry attempts at reading, coming from the front door area. He slowly put his book down on his lap and turned on his comm. "Junior, who is that?"

"That would be Doctor Banner and Miss Carter," Junior answered his ear.

"Thanks." He turned off his comm. "They're back."

He couldn't say 'they're home,' the school wasn't home, would never _be_ home without the other Avengers. It was a temporary situation.

They'd get home as quickly as Bucky could get them there.

Steve huffed as he set down his drawing. "Your paranoia's getting tiring, Bucky."

Bucky set his book down on the table next to his side of the couch. "Don't start," he said. "We've been playing nice, we're not doing this."

Maria was staying wisely out of that, instead, redirecting the conversation. "We should go see what they brought Bucky to work with."

"Whatever it is, it's waiting until tomorrow," Bucky said with a grumble. "I have better things to do."

"Better things to do than try to contact this ghost that may or may not be causing problems?" Steve asked. "Like what?"

"Hiding in Maria's bed, for one," Bucky answered, flashing Maria a dirty smile.

She sighed and rolled her eyes theatrically, probably for Steve's benefit. "One night away from working on that project probably won't hurt anything. I don't have reason to believe she's a danger."

"And the shower?" Steve asked.

Maria frowned, sitting up. "I already made my assessment on that incident. I was the one there, you were not. Please trust my judgment, even if you don't care to trust Bucky's."

Steve looked caught on the spot and not liking it. "Sorry," he said. "I'm just worried about you guys." He glanced at Bucky, just a quick flick of his eyes. "Bucky's not the only one that starts acting goofy when it comes to protecting his team."

"At least you admit it," Maria said, finally getting up off the couch to put her book away.

"We're back!" Sharon's voice called up the stairs. "Don't everyone come greet us at once."

"Who says we want to greet you?" Bucky called downstairs, getting up, his book forgotten on the table. He followed Maria downstairs, Steve right behind him.

Sharon was already giving him a dirty look by the time he and the other two made it down to where she was. "You, I'd hope, Mister Engineer who gets to play with this stuff we bought."

"Ooh, toys." He stepped past Maria, following Sharon to the dining room.

"We didn't take them to the work room," she said. "We bought a couple other things, some food, mainly."

Bucky raised his eyebrows in her direction. "We have enough frozen meals to last a lifetime, why more?"

She gave him a sidelong look. "To let you cook more. It gives you something to do and some of the veggies you needed fresh to add to reheat meals have gone bad because we're trying to go through too much. We made a shopping list. We've already gone through and trashed what went bad."

Bucky scrunched his nose in disgust. "I guess I have kinda been overcooking."

"Kinda?" Steve asked. "If you're not with Maria, you're in the kitchen."

"I could be doing worse," Bucky said casting a baleful look back at Steve.

Like fighting with Steve. Steve, please don't turn this one into a fight, it isn't necessary. Remember the nice conversation just a few minutes go? Stick with that.

Steve seemed inclined to follow that unspoken advice. "We clearly need to get the other Avengers here for a reunion meal. Probably make you happy enough to wet yourself."

That got Bucky to laugh. "After we're sure Kitty's okay company. If she is, I'm going to ask her to mess around with Natasha for my amusement. But speaking of our resident ghost, I'm told I have new toys to play with."

"We got what you asked for," Sharon said in response.

Bruce, for his part, was already in the kitchen, putting away groceries. On one of the tables were several smaller bags of electronics and small parts that made Bucky's mind wander off to happy work places.

Happy bed places were happening tonight, but come morning, those electronic pieces were getting locked away in the work room with him.

"So what do we have here?" Steve asked, hands still held up as if he were being very careful with those messy fingers.

Bucky sat down at the table. "Go wash your hands, then come out here and I'll answer that."

While Steve disappeared to do that with a relieved thank you, Bucky started digging into the bags. Keyboard, check, smoke detector, check. A look in the Radio Shack bag revealed a voltage regulator, five volts. Good, they didn't miss that. He didn't think they would. There were a number of other fiddly bits he needed in there too, bitty ones, that would look comical on what the circuit was gonna be soldered to.

One bag was from an office supply store that had him figuratively scratching his head. "Hey Bruce?" he called back towards the kitchen. "Why'd you get a bag of rubber bands? Those weren't on the list."

Bruce appeared out of the kitchen. "You told me there were rubber bands in it. I couldn't find any in our work room, I'm not sure where they went."

Oh. "Uh, they're around. They got twisted into a stress ball." He looked back at Bruce. "Thanks, I'll just use these instead of trying to untie that thing."

Bruce sat down next to him. "Just don't take off with all of these, too," he said.

Steve rejoined them. "Okay, nerd, explain this for the rest of us."

Bucky glared at him. "Soak your head." He dug back into another bag, pulling out two old bread boards, a large roll of uncovered copper wire, along with some insulated wire, and a bag of nails. He looked over all his parts to work with. "We have paper clips upstairs, right, Bruce?"

"We do, yes," Bruce said. "That one I checked for. But his insult aside, I agree with Steve. You have me curious about all this. I'm not an engineer."

Bucky looked over his prizes. "EMF detectors aren't hard to make, and the parts are easy to get, as long as you have access to an electronics store that specializes in little circuit boards and such, or the internet. Since we don't have those, I'm having to butcher things. The keyboard has a Hall Effect sensor in it. Some printers have them, but I'm not sure what models would and keyboards are more reliable anyway."

"Hall Effect sensor?" Steve looked at Bruce.

Bruce shrugged and pointed to Bucky. "Ask him, he's the one building this."

"It's a transducer," Bucky said, then sighed when he was met with blank stares. "It converts signals from one form into another, like electricity. Hall Effect sensors specifically convert a magnetic field to an electrical signal." He frowned. "I don't get to wave my hand and say 'it's magic' with these things, do I?"

"Nope," Steve said, leaning forward. "We all like to learn, and we all want to know what we're going to be using here."

 _"You_ won't be using anything," Bucky said. "This thing's mine."

"We'll be playing with the recorder and the camera," Bruce said.

"Camera?" Bucky looked at him.

"Video camera," Sharon said, picking a bag up off the floor. "We mentioned early on getting one. Bruce had an idea about it. He said you can fiddle with it to get it to see IR so we can set it up in front of where Kitty died, see if we can't pick up an apparition or something."

Bucky gave Bruce the hairy eyeball. "You didn't tell me before you left that I had to mess with a camera's visual range, too."

To his credit, Bruce looked a bit guilty. "I'm sorry. I thought it was a good idea when I saw it and we don't have phones with service."

Ugly reminder of how isolated they were. "Fair enough. I'll do that first."

"What's IR?" Steve asked.

"Infrared."

"Might I asked a question?" Maria said, speaking up for the first time. She was good at staying quiet and observing, which was sometimes unnerving.

"You don't have to ask," Bucky said.

"What are the rubber bands for?"

"They hold the battery connector to the breadboard."

"And what's a breadboard?"

Bucky picked up the small wooden board. "This."

"Oh, so you _did_ mean literally when you asked for that," Sharon said. "I was hoping we were reading that right. I'm not seeing how that'll work to detect electromagnetic fields."

Bucky set it back down. "I'm going to be nailing copper wires on one and soldering them. Basically make a circuit board. There's easier ways to make them now, they sell types that don't need to be soldered, but this is the way we did it back in my day, and I have access to the parts for it."

"You had us get two of those breadboards," Sharon said. "What's the second one for?"

Bucky dug around in the bags to examine those tiny pieces again, taking inventory. "I'm going to make an electromagnet to test this thing on and I need a variable power supply. The second board's to make one. Most of these tiny pieces are for that. I could just take the detector up to the watch tower, since technology puts off EMFs like crazy, but I don't wanna chance frying something up there. Better to just make a small one of my own."

"Which is what the insulated wire's for," Bruce said. "I remember making those little nail magnets in class. I wondered about those."

"Oh thank god," Bucky said. "Someone gets at least that much." He looked at Bruce. "I hope I don't have to explain electromagnatism to you."

Bruce shook his head. "Oh no, that I know plenty about. Just because I can't build a circuit board out of a cutting board and make an EMF detector out of spare parts doesn't mean I don't know what we're dealing with."

"Good, someone does."

Sharon gave him a cross look. "We all took high school science classes, we all have learned about electromagnetism on that level at least."

Bucky peered up at her through too-long hair (must get that cut, must get Steve to stop being a prickhole long enough for Bucky to trust him with scissors). "Good, because I'm not a teacher, I couldn't begin to tell you how it works without using really technical words."

"So are we going to start on that tonight?" Steve asked, glancing towards the kitchen, his mind clearly already racing to figure out which of Bucky's many pre-cooked meals to heat up.

Bucky shook his head and started putting things back in the bags. "Nope. Tonight, we eat, I'm gonna read a little, then Maria and I are going to bed and you all can do whatever. I'll start on this tomorrow."


	13. And I'm Saying Goodbye

It was early morning when Bucky got up and got dressed, packing his overnight clothes back into his bag. Maria didn't seem disturbed by his movement, nor by his absence when he got up. She remained in the bed, sleeping peacefully.

Deciding that it was safe to leave, he slipped out, turning the knob on the door to let it slide in without noise, then walked across the hall to his own room. Just as silently, he opened the door and stepped in. Steve was still asleep, curled up on his side facing his night stand, his three sketchbooks scattered about.

All three, huh? Steve must not have expected him back until later than it was.

Bucky set his bag down by his dresser and almost left, but something made him pause. He looked back at Steve, sleeping soundly. How soundly, Bucky wondered. Steve was a light sleeper, he should've woken at Bucky's entrance.

Bucky's Ativan bottle was on his own nightstand, left behind on nights he stayed with Maria. He walked over to it and looked inside. It seemed emptier than it should be. He looked at Steve, wondering if Steve was raiding it for easier sleep when Bucky wasn't there.

He'd talk to Steve about it. Nights were hardest, maybe they both needed the Ativan at bedtime. Might even stop the fights that wound them up and made going to bed a chore in angry awkwardness.

Recapping the Ativan bottle and setting it back down, Bucky walked around the end of the bed with silent footsteps, heavy boots muffled by the carpet. He took the sketchbook he was pretty sure Steve was using for memory recovery and flipped through it, careful with turning pages, hoping, aching to see some sign of himself in there. Something, even something bad, just to prove that he wasn't gone.

Nothing.

He set down the sketchbook and crouched down by Steve. Steve, if he wasn't asleep, was good at faking it. But his breathing was too even for Bucky to think he was awake. Risking waking him up, risking another fight, or maybe risking a chance to start a _real_ conversation, something that'd go somewhere good, Bucky leaned over and pressed his cheek against Steve's. "Trust your big brother yeah?" he whispered.

Steve stirred a little, pressing his face into his pillow a little, then settled back down. Bucky decided to leave it there and left the room.

Nobody in the other two rooms made sounds of waking, and the hallway, almost dark still with the sun rising on the other side of the building, was empty.

Good, he had his morning to himself. Time to build an EMF detector.

Or do that stupid camera IR thing. Thanks a lot, Bruce, at least you stopped at a library and got a list of the right pieces online. He'd printed out a how-to as well, but Bucky didn't need it, just the parts.

Once in the work room, he shut the door and walked over to the counter, examining the bags and pieces scattered about. It would've at one time made him have a nerdgasm, but now it seemed, while still fun, a distraction from what was really on his mind: those sketchbooks.

No. Have fun with engineering fun parts. Steve and his issues can wait.

With his mind still full of those thoughts against his will, he set aside the breadboards and other pieces for the EMF and the magnet and the variable power source, and went for the camera. He hopped up onto the counter, crossing his legs and grabbing his tools and glove for his left hand.

Making a camera see in IR wasn't actually that hard. The camera's CCD chip had a filter on it to keep out infrared, it was partly a matter of removing that. Ripping open the camera was easy, although keeping the two sides from falling apart required taping them together.

Ah, fun with engineering. Taping big electronic pieces together without setting something on fire. All the reason in the world he'd needed to go into the field. Designing weapons was almost secondary to getting to play with weird electrical circuits. Steve used to make fun of him, but Bucky would point out that he tried to color while colorblind, so don't talk about ridiculous.

Steve.

No, toys first. Steve can wait until he was done with the damn work.

The CCD chip's filter removed, he grabbed a roll of old camera film, exposed to the light until black, and started cutting it down, until it was roughly the same size as the filter he'd just pulled out. That left pulling out the camera lens and placing in the new filter that blocked out visible light. He probably didn't need to, but he'd remind Bruce that he couldn't expect to see anything through the camera when he set it up. He'd have to make sure it was pointed in the right direction without seeing through the lens and hope he got a good shot.

Bucky put the camera pieces back together, removed the tape, and set it aside. There. Camera done.

He hopped down off the counter and started organizing the pieces for the EMF detector; the power source he needed for the magnet would come second. If all else failed, he could take the detector up to the watchtower and see what the computers put off.

There. Nice and organized, and his tools ready in reach. He hopped back up on the counter and got to work, sketching out a circuit pattern that he attached with tape before pulling out a nail and his small hammer. He missed making breadboard circuits. He'd worked with the modern ones; they were fun, and much easier, but if he was going to be working while dealing with relationship problems, he wanted the comfort of the old fashioned stuff.

"Why are you sitting on the work counter?"

He paused in hammering a nail onto the breadboard, careful not to move his circuitry pattern, searching briefly for the safest answer to give Bruce. "It's comfortable."

Bruce walked farther into the workshop, taking one of the actual chairs and pulling it over to the counter to sit on the other side of the circuit from Bucky. "You only sit on the counter to work when you have something on your mind." When Bucky didn't answer, Bruce continued, turning his attention to Bucky's work. "Steve?"

Once again, Bucky paused. "Isn't it always?" And on the subject of Steve and the problems he created. "I'm almost out of Ativan, by the way."

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Already?" He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. "You've been overdosing, haven't you?"

Overdosing. What an ugly word. He went back to hammering. "Dealing with Steve warrants it." He refrained from mentioning that he thought Steve was getting into it occasionally.

Bruce drew in the breath of a frustrated doctor dealing with a problem child patient. "How bad?"

Bucky shrugged. "Two at bedtime if we've been fighting," he said. "That's a milligram, it puts me to sleep for about half the night. Another two when I wake up from those to get sleep the rest of the night."

"So just adding a fourth allowed dose would do it?"

"Maybe." Bucky sighed, grabbing another nail. "Honestly, I'd rather not be on it at all. I come from the psychiatric dark ages, it's terrifying being on mental health drugs. And I'm not happy with it anyway."

And Steve would be forced to just get his own damn supply.

"Pride's getting in the way," Bruce said in an absolutely correct assessment. His assessments usually were. He was starting to understand Bucky in ways that didn't always make Bucky comfortable.

Bucky ignored that statement long enough to finish nailing in the last nail on that row of the circuit. "Even people in this time don't like admitting it or needing it," he pointed out.

"I know," Bruce said, tilting his head as Bucky started pulling out the copper wire. "I could up your dosage to a milligram, limit three. Two for sleeping, and the third one for when you absolutely feel you need it."

Bucky glanced up at him. "I just said I don't want on it at all and you're upping my dosage?"

"Just for now," Bruce said. "It won't be like this forever, we all know it won't. But you're free to otherwise use whatever coping techniques you need. Just know that third pill is there if you need it."

"Like to keep myself from making you guys victims of a misplaced temper," Bucky said, finishing a thought he knew was hiding in Bruce's brain somewhere.

"That'd be a good time for it, yes," Bruce said. "If you want, I can have Sharon go back to town and look for something to hold that third pill for you during the day that doesn't look like a pill holder or your bottle itself. Hide it easier so nobody knows you have it."

That didn't sound bad; if he was stuck being on the medicine, and he knew that until Steve and he had repaired things and were back to normal, he'd probably need the help. At least with sleeping. The Soldier part of his brain had been instructed by the doctor to use those pills when needed, and now that was part of his programming, so when fights with Steve escalated that high at bedtime, his orders were to take enough of his medicine to sleep properly.

The fourth pill was all Bucky, though.

"I'd rather you go on your own," Bucky said. "If nobody's supposed to know about it, Sharon would be the wrong one to send."

Bruce made a thoughtful noise, watching Bucky guiding the bare copper around the nails into a circuit. "Are you going to be okay without your medicine for a few days?"

"Yeah," Bucky said. "I'll just go tire myself out in the training room if I have to. Or sit up with a cup of cocoa. I'll settle down." He cut the wire, setting aside the large spool and soldering one tip of his voltage regulator to the copper. The work was therapeutic on its own, tools in his hands, putting together circuits and power sources. It was basic work, stuff he could do in his sleep, but that made it all the more relaxing.

What hadn't been terribly entertaining, though, was that stupid video camera.

Speaking of.

He nodded his head slightly in the direction of the camera on the other end of the work table. "There's your camera, by the way," he said. "It should work."

Bruce turned his head to look at it. "Oh, thank you. Sorry about dropping that one on your lap."

Bucky made a vague noise that hovered in the area of saying 'it's all right', too distracted by soldering on one side of the battery connector to the voltage regulator.

Bruce got up and grabbed the camera; Bucky barely saw him do it, wasn't sure if Bruce was even gonna stay with his camera to go play with. But, Bruce came back over and sat back down. "I hope we can help this little girl."

Bucky set aside his soldering gun and sat up to look at him. "You feel guilty about her."

Bruce grimaced, something that looked like it was trying to be a reassuring smile, but just looked guilty instead. "It was the radiation from my experiment that made her the way she was."

"It wasn't your fault," he finally said, picking up his gun. He motioned it at Bruce. "And don't you tell me otherwise. Her mother knew that radiation exposure was part of the game. She got out as soon as she found out she was pregnant. Unless she could telepathically communicate with an embryo, she had no way of knowing sooner than she did."

He went back to soldering the other side of the power supply to a copper wire to take the circuit back full circle. "So relax, it's not your fault. And if she's got any sense, kid or not, Kitty's not gonna blame you."

Hear that, kid? Behave.

"Don't act like you wouldn't feel guilty in my position," Bruce said. His tone sounded far away, and Bucky felt the need to set aside the breadboard to focus on his friend.

"Bruce," he said, putting his hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Listen to me. You had no way of knowing what that experiment would do, any more than Erskine was certain of what the stuff used on Steve. Hypotheses are great, but that's all they are. So you set up an experiment that didn't work. It happens to every scientist out there." Bruce looked ready to interrupt, but Bucky kept going. "And yes, I know, your experiment resulted in the other guy. But time's given him a chance to direct himself to help people. Sure, there's always a bad chance, but I trust him to recognize us as allies. Tony does. Sharon and Maria do. Steve probably does, although he may not remember why." Bucky leveled a serious look at him. "The Soldier trusts him, Bruce."

That looked like it surprised Bruce. "The Soldier trusts a potential time bomb?"

Bucky gave him a pained smile. "You think the Soldier or I feel that we aren't one? Especially right now?"

Bruce patted Bucky's knee. "I think you both underestimate him. Steve may not realize it right now, I'm willing to bet the other two will back me up when I say that while the Soldier may still be a brutal killer, you've reprogrammed him to use those skills to protect the people you love."

Bucky looked down at his abandoned breadboard, trying to figure out how to safely reply to that. "That's what I've tried," he finally said. "But after seeing Hydra trying to experiment on Steve, I can't be a hundred percent certain that he'll recognize anybody but Steve as someone to protect."

"I don't buy that," Bruce said in a firm tone. "You still recognize us as your friends, and while he may be able to call shots, you told me outright that he'll listen to you when it's needed, like when dealing with the other guy. I don't think that you'll have any problem with the Soldier protecting us just as much as Steve. Steve just needs the help more right now."

The breadboard called as a lovely distraction, a way to escape the conversation, but Bruce deserved an answer. "Steve's the only one he wants to focus on."

Bruce raised a stern eyebrow at him. "And what was that I just said about Steve needing the help right now? Steve needs help getting back from Hydra, of course the Soldier's only focused on him. The rest of us aren't in danger. If Kitty turns out to be a danger, I don't believe for one second that the Soldier won't come storming out to get rid of her and make us safe." He dropped his hand and looked at the breadboard. "I really doubt it'll come to that, though. She can be reasoned with, I'm sure."

Hopefully.

"Well, she's the daughter of a scientist who went to a school for gifted children," Bucky said. "She probably can be." Hope hope hope. Hear this kid? We're sucking up, be nice.

Bruce sighed, turning the camera in his hand. "Her mother was one of the brightest people on my project." He frowned. "I wasn't much interested in her beyond as a person and a coworker, but she was a beautiful, brilliant woman. I was happy for her when she married, and I worried when she came up pregnant, precisely because of potential results like what happened with Kitty, but what was done was done." He sighed. "I guess we don't always get what we hope for."

Bucky stopped, halfway done with securing the power source with rubber bands - what fun oddities his field had - and set the whole device down. "There's something you're leaving out here," he said. "What else does that statement mean?"

Bruce looked like a kid caught taking spoonfuls out of the sugar container. "I-" He cut himself off, then heaved a very deep, very sorrowful sigh that made Bucky almost regret asking. "All right," he said. "You've trusted me with information and with your mental health, I'd be a hypocrite to blow you off."

"With a caveat like that, should I tell you to not worry about it?" Bucky asked, resting his elbows on his knees.

Bruce frowned, shaking his head. "No, you noticed it, I'm not going to tell you to go talk to someone about what goes through your mind and keep stitches on my lips around you."

"Tony does most of that nagging," Bucky pointed out.

That got a quirk of a smile from Bruce. "I'm not much better," he admitted. "I briefly considered asking Elizabeth out early on in the project. It wasn't just the fact that dating coworkers isn't a good idea that stopped me. I had no idea how to be in a healthy relationship with a woman. My father wasn't exactly a good example."

"Domestic abuser?"

"In a very bad way."

Bucky clenched his left hand tightly. "He never touched you, did he?"

Bruce shook his head. "No, and he's long dead anyway, so calm the temper, there's nobody to go after."

Bucky let loose a tension draining sigh. "As long as he's gone and didn't hurt you."

Another quirk of a smile. "Not physically, he didn't. But like I said, I had no example of a good relationship. I was afraid I'd end up like him." He frowned. "Then the other guy came along. I _did_ try for a relationship with one woman after that, but the other guy made it pretty clear it wasn't going to work."

Bucky almost asked if the Hulk simply didn't like the woman, but then his brain clicked into gear. There were a lot more situations that caused physical and mental stress than anger and fear, and you must be fucking kidding. "Jesus, that far?"

Despite Bucky's words, Bruce didn't flush, just looked more miserable. He set the camera down on the counter. "Yeah, that far. But it's fine, I have you guys, I have a family." The smile he flashed Bucky at that seemed only half sincere. "Pretty good family, too."

Bucky was glad to hear that, but another thing clicked in his brain. "It's tough seeing the four of us paired off though, isn't it?"

Bruce shrugged. "Sometimes. But mostly I'm glad that you guys are happy. You don't leave me out. Sharon's reached out enough that the other guy will listen to her, at least somewhat, and she's able to get him to let go of me. You trust me with your research, and as a scientist, I know that's not always easy. And Steve leaving someone out is incomprehensible. Same with Maria. Once she decides her loyalty, she's there for good, unless you betray her. I'm fine." Then he grinned. "And I do have Tony, who is enough to deal with that I'm not sure I'd want to go home to a wife and potentially mouthy child."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "That I'll agree with."

After a look over the circuit for the detector, Bucky decided it was done and he wouldn't know what adjustments he'd have to make until he'd set up his magnet. Which meant working on that variable power source.

Pulling the other breadboard over to him and the tiny parts involved in that, he stopped to stretch his back and neck.

"You should take a break," Bruce said. "Your back needs a rest."

Bucky shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Longer endurance, remember?"

Bruce frowned, clearly not entirely convinced, but not willing to argue. "Then I'll let you get to the next thing there. Unless you need me for something?"

Bucky almost said no, but then Steve's sketchbooks came floating back to mind and Bucky was as calm as he was gonna get about it, and the work room was semi-neutral ground, better than the bedroom.

So instead of 'no, I got this', he replied with "can you let Steve know I'm here? I got something I need to talk to him about." He was hoping that'd be enough to prod Steve up there.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Good or bad?"

"Dunno yet," Bucky said, looking over his parts again. "Hopefully neither. I just accidentally stumbled on something private of his that I wanna ask about, but the bedroom's easy to argue in, because we always do. I figure somewhere away from there might be better."

Bruce didn't answer that beyond a noise of agreement, then straightened and grabbed his camera. "I'll let him know," he said. "And then set this up. Thank you again for working on it."

Bucky waved him off. "It wasn't hard, and it wasn't a bad idea. Go on, I have a power source to make."

Time passed, and Bucky had actually finished making the power source, tested and working, and was finishing wrapping the copper wire around the nail when Steve finally appeared.

"Hey."

Bucky spared him a glance, close enough to the testing phase to actually be a bit distracted, momentarily enough that he'd forgotten why he'd wanted Steve to come see him.

Oh. Right. The sketchbooks.

"Hey yourself," he said. "Hang on, I'm almost done here."

Steve walked over and sat down where Bruce had been before, watching him. "I remember you making one of those in third grade," he said.

Bucky grinned. "Yeah, electromagnets are neat. Feels good to get back to basics sometimes."

"I hear you," Steve said. "Sometimes pencil and paper feel nicer than paints or pastels." He didn't inquire about Bucky's summons, watching Bucky hook the insulated wires to the power source.

Bucky knew that gave him a good opening, but he wanted to finish that last thing. He got the wires hooked up, and grabbed some paperclips off the counter. "And now we test it," he said, turning on the power source. The paperclips bounced around under the magnetic forces coming from the nail before attaching themselves entirely to it. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Steve shook his head with a laugh. "Bucky, I watched you make so many of those growing up, they've lost their shine."

Hey. A good conversation. Talking about happy memories. Maybe things were okay, that there was a good reason he wasn't in that sketchbook. Steve certainly acted normal, and while Steve could spit out the occasional lie convincingly, usually after coaching, the conversation had gone on too long for him to have maintained it.

Maybe the sketchbooks didn't even need to brought up. Bucky desperately didn't want to. But it needed addressing if they were going to get Steve's memories all back in proper place and get him away from Hydra's influence. And it was Bucky that knew the way out of there, meaning Bucky had to be there in his head.

Don't wanna.

Do it anyway.

Fine.

"Speaking of getting back to basics, you've been using your sketchbooks for memories, right?"

Steve suddenly looked like he wished he could convincingly lie to him. "Yeah, sometimes."

Sometimes. Right.

Bucky took a deep breath. "Steve, I found the sketchbook in your nightstand."

Steve's cornered look immediately turned to anger. "So you snooped."

"You snooped in my suitcase," Bucky reminded him, trying so hard to sound calm and only barely making it. If Steve hadn't found that damn file, maybe this whole thing would've been easier.

"And you've ragged at me endlessly for it," Steve said, jaw clenching tightly and hand on the counter curling into a fist.

Bucky turned off the power source and set aside the no longer live magnet. "And look at the problems it made. I was _hoping_ to find something to _help you_. That's all I've ever been trying to do." He took in a deep breath, tone evening off. "But I did notice something."

"More nightmares you don't like that I can't help?"

"No." Bucky looked down at his EMF detector, then back at Steve. "Why am I not in any of your memories since moving to the Tower? You have everyone but me. Why am I gone?"

Steve went supernaturally still, and Bucky could seek his thoughts trying to find a good lie that would be believed. None would come, Bucky knew that; even if Steve was a good liar, he'd never be able to trick Bucky.

Finally, Steve shrugged. "Because I have a sketchbook full of stuff with us. It's just the others that I have to work on the most."

A reasonable thought, that second one, the same Bucky had hoped for. But he didn't believe it. Maria was right, Bucky was getting written out of Steve's memories, anything past what he didn't already remember. Steve didn't want to remember the Soldier, and Bucky was inexorably linked to the Soldier. So avoid him at all costs. The nightmares were bad enough, right?

"All right," Bucky said. It wasn't, though, wasn't at all. Steve was so busy focusing on something that scared him that he was leaving his best friend behind. Bucky almost yelled at him, almost going over the old ground of how he _was_ the Soldier, get over it, and stop trying to forget him, jackass. But none of that would help, it never had before.

So he simply turned the power source back on and grabbed the detector to test it. "I was just wondering."

Steve must've realized how lame that lie was, and how much it'd hurt Bucky, like a slap to the face or a kick to the gut, because he tried to admit he was lying in a round about manner. "You're not going to ask if that's true?"

To be fair, that was something they both asked during their fights, so maybe Steve wasn't even trying.

Bucky kept his eyes focused on the voltmeter and its readings. Good, the detector worked. "I trust you."

He didn't. But maybe, just maybe, one last attempt before he gave up would flush out Steve's lie and they could have a conversation that didn't involve yelling that might move towards fixing things, might pour water on the withering friendship they were both killing.

Maybe Steve would actually trust his big brother.

Steve didn't say anything about that, didn't even say anything at all for a good fifteen seconds, fifteen seconds too long that told Bucky that if Steve was going to try to fix things, he was going to go off somewhere to do it in his head alone, like he shouldn't have to and wouldn't have to if he'd just fucking listen.

"Does that work?" Steve asked, nodding towards the detector.

Jesus, Steve, not even a 'thank you' for Bucky's statement? Fuck off.

"Yeah." Bucky had to use every bit of willpower he had to keep his tone calm and quiet and non-aggressive as it'd been before, so Steve wouldn't see how upset he was. Steve no longer had the right to know.

"Should I tell Bruce? We could get started."

Bucky shook his head. "Bruce is working with the video camera. I wanna do some tweaks on this. It's gonna be boring for you."

Steve recognized the 'go away' that was pretty loud and clear, as he simply shrugged and said "okay, I'll leave you to that," and left.

Bucky waited until he couldn't hear Steve's footsteps anymore before grabbing the detector and flinging it at the far wall with his left arm. The device embedded itself into the wall, small pieces breaking loose and hanging by the soldered copper wiring over the hole the rest of the detector left.

Bucky's full body shaking from rage quickly shifted into hurt, a desire to cry, to wail wordlessly. He backed up against the wall the work bench was pressed against and drew his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. Hot, angry, and hurt tears soaked into the knees of his jeans as he pressed his face against them to muffle any sound. Sound might bring Steve back. Might cause another fight.

Bucky had just lost his best friend.


	14. Step Away From The Ledge

The mission was a failure. The mission was to get Steve out of that lab, safe and whole. He had failed in that. The Soldier wanted to let go of Steve and his promise of 'to the end of the line' and disappear before someone got rid of him for being a faulty weapon.

But the brain, the body, belonged to Bucky, and regardless of the overwhelming sense of betrayal he felt, Bucky had made that same 'to the end of the line' and with Bucky, that was a platonic way of saying "'til death do we part."

It left them with no choice but to remain in that lab, to stand helplessly by and watch Steve refuse to get up and leave with him. Forced to remain in the past until Steve was willing to get up and go back to the present with them.

Assuming Bucky would let him come with. His emotions were running high at the moment, too high to be able to deal with Steve, so he turned to his last coping method that didn't involve overdosing on drugs.

He made himself a new mission and put the Soldier in charge.

The new mission was to find out all information possible about the ghost named Catherine, rather 'Kitty', and ensure that she was friendly, or at least not antagonistic. If she was friendly, she was a possible ally in keeping the grounds safe. If she was neutral, they could organize spaces that were hers and spaces that belonged to the Avengers and negotiate peaceful interactions in mutual areas.

Bucky added that the kitchen and the work room were absolutely off limits.

Yes, Bucky, we will be sure of that.

Of course, their ghost hunting was delayed a bit by Bucky's destruction of the EMF detector. The Soldier didn't like the set back, but all things considered, that wasn't the worst they could've done, so he didn't scold.

"Bucky, we're ready for you-" Bruce stopped in the doorway, studying the Soldier's flat expression, and probably noting the red eyes that were evidence of Bucky's crying. He looked ready to ask, then glanced over the counter as if looking for something, before noticing the wall."Oh, Bucky," he said in dismay. He stared at the hole in the wall with the cracked and ruined detector hanging out of it. "What'd Steve say that got you this upset?"

"The friendship's over," the Soldier said in an attempt at a matter-of-fact tone, although both he and Bucky desperately wanted to show far more of the whirlwind of emotions in the mind. But those emotions would be distracting to their current mission, and the Soldier knew when to keep a grip on his emotions, which was almost always.

It wasn't like either one of them knew how to put them into words anyway.

Bruce started to pry the device out of the wall before pausing and looking back at the Soldier. After a second, he heaved a deep breath. "I'm talking to the Soldier, aren't I?"

"You are. Bucky is upset, there is work to do, he'll have to approach his emotions at a better time."

Bruce yanked the detector free. "Who decided the friendship was over?" he asked, walking over to the counter with it. He was handling the Soldier with care; the Soldier himself was hard to deal with, and a loaded statement about Steve and Bucky's friendship like that made him unpredictable. He was cold and flat, but Bucky wasn't, and Bruce understood that they were really the same person. So which side of their personality would win out was a big question mark.

"It was mutual," the Soldier said, getting a mental grip on Bucky's protest to that. "It was never explicitly stated, however, so perhaps there is still hope." Maybe. Bucky would have to be the one to grant that forgiveness, because the Soldier did not want to. "Would you like a mission report?"

"I wouldn't call it that, but it'd be nice to know what was said," Bruce said, holding the detector and keeping a bit of distance between himself and the Soldier.

"Steve has been using art to record memories as they come back, as he was instructed," the Soldier said. "A certain sketchbook came to our attention that implied that Steve was perhaps avoiding remembering anything regarding us after moving to the Tower. Bucky asked him about it, Steve said nothing, and refused to acknowledge Bucky's statement that he trusted him. He left."

Bruce shook his head, setting the ruined device on the work table. "I can't believe Steve would do that."

"You think my report is inaccurate?"

"No," Bruce said with a heaved sigh. "I can talk to him, or get Sharon to talk to him. He seems more attached to her than anyone."

"She's his romantic partner, of course he is," the Soldier said. Really, Bruce, did that have to be stated?

Bruce gave him a weary stare over his glasses. "With you, I can't tell when you're being serious or when you're being sarcastic."

The Soldier quirked one eyebrow, the only sign of irritation he showed. Bruce, you're saying a lot of dumb things right now. "Remember my training and then assume I am never sarcastic. Sarcasm is a good way to get into unneeded trouble."

"Which is why you don't think in words anymore, I remember," Bruce said. "Your tone just sometimes reminds me of Maria's when we're discussing important things. It's hard to tell with her."

"An admirable ability that she has had the safety to use," the Soldier pointed out. Then he looked at the device, keeping his expression flat. "Let me see what can be salvaged." He uncurled his legs out of the way and picked the detector off the table. He looked over it, under it, around it, examining the circuit and the connected parts. "We need a new voltage regulator. I can fix the battery case. It will need to be resoldered. The voltmeter is cracked, but not in a place that will make it unreadable." He set the detector down, withholding a noise of disgust. "A minor set back. Sharon will have to go alone to pick up a replacement part, unless the team decides that the waiting time for your facial hair is acceptable." He looked at Bruce. "I do not, but I'm not the leader, it's a group decision."

Bruce tilted his head slightly. "You're not the leader, but you and Bucky have been trying awfully hard to make this particular issue a mission."

"It is one," the Soldier replied. "It never stopped being one. But Kitty is a new element, one I am not in full control of. I would vote to not wait, to send Sharon today, but I will not call this shot like I'm the only one in charge."

"Trying not to step on toes?"

"The situation with Steve has escalated enough. He will accept someone else's vote more than mine."

That seemed to irritate Bruce a bit, though the Soldier suspected that irritation was more directed at the situation and not at the participants. "All right, as the other scientist involved in trying to contact Kitty, I'll make the call. I'll send Sharon into town today. We'll have the part soon, and after dinner, we'll start investigating the cats to confirm if they're ghosts or not, and then try to track down Kitty so we know where to put the recorder. Fair?"

"Thank you," the Soldier said, hopping down off the counter. He stared at the semi-broken detector; the breadboard itself had taken the worst of the impact, cracks streaked across it, but it hadn't disrupted the circuit too much, nothing a bit of soldering and maybe some wood glue wouldn't fix. He was certain there was some in the basement in one of the supply rooms, certain enough to not mention to Bruce to have Sharon pick it up.

It was a horrible set back, one he laid blame for directly on Steve's shoulders. He gripped the edges of the counter tightly, willing every muscle in his body to hold stone still lest he shake in rage. As far as the Soldier could see or care to see, Steve had strapped a ticking time bomb around their necks, left the Soldier to remain in a past he didn't want, keeping Bucky held prisoner there. Held them there until that bomb went off and there was no getting out.

"Soldier?"

Hearing his name, he snapped to attention, straightening. His name had been said fearfully, but that had happened before. Hydra feared their own weapon. Some of them were better at hiding it than others.

"Why don't you go to the training building?" Bruce suggested, tone gentle, like handling a feral animal. "You're pretty much radiating enough rage to make me worry that the other guy might have competition. That's not gonna do anyone any good. Work it off before Sharon gets home and we have to work as a group again. A group that includes Steve."

While Bruce was not ultimately in charge, merely willing to make a call the Soldier was unwilling to make, he made a good suggestion. The idea of stabbing training dummies until he'd worn himself out- or at least his anger- sounded wonderful.

"Advice taken," he said, whirling on one foot and heading around the corner to the room that held the team's uniforms. The idea, of course, was that they'd take their uniforms to their rooms to change, but the Soldier most certainly did not want to run into anyone before he could get to the training room, planned on using one of the side exits to get back there rather than the direct back door. So he simply slid the door shut and started changing.

His pants, knee pads, and boots came first, then his custom leg holsters. He debated a long few seconds about the guns; he stood to chance that they'd be heard in the training building, but going into Palestine without them had felt unnatural and left him in trouble. He decided to carry them, even though he wouldn't be using them. Their weight felt good.

He pulled on his turtleneck, adjusting the neck to cover as much skin as possible, making his throat a harder target to hit. He paused briefly, looking between the coat and his tactical vest. The vest would be more comfortable, had a place for his Skorpion, but that was probably excessive, and the coat had more holsters for his knives. If he would be using only his knives, the coat would be a wiser choice.

Dressed, he grabbed his goggles and mask, and headed down the stairs. If Bruce saw him go by, he said nothing, and nobody intercepted him on his way to the door leading to the groundskeeping building. He pulled on his mask and goggles, switching his HUD on, then headed out. He swung wide into the trees and circled around the grounds until he reached the backside of the training building. He pressed his back against it, turning his head slightly to let his HUD take stock of body heat registers in the distant dining room. Getting past anyone in there to the front door might be troublesome.

Steve wasn't there. Bruce was, talking to someone seated that he assumed was Sharon, getting told to go back into town for that replacement part. There was heat wafting into the room from the kitchen. The Soldier didn't know if it was Steve or Maria in there, but he had to move fast, regardless of which it was, if he wanted to get in the building before they came out of the kitchen.

He'd have to chance Sharon. Hopefully Bruce talking to her would keep her occupied enough to get into the building. He counted to three, then turned the corner and ran, hugging the wall tightly. He took one more glance towards the dining room- still not spotted, good -then pressed his metal hand to the hand reader. It took a couple tries to get it to stop looking for a handprint and recognize the biomechtium- twitchy thing- before the door opened. He stepped in and closed the door, leaning back against it.

No trouble, not called for. He'd gotten in without being spotted. Good.

He pulled his glove for his metal hand on. There, ready.

The training building was quite large, intended for all the Avengers (sans Bruce) to stretch their proverbial wings, and that included flying man Tony. Who had, thankfully, explained how to use the place. There were a combination of holograms and real training dummies- very realistic dummies, at that -in there for use. The holograms would disappear upon a kill shot from an arrow, or a knife. Or a good bullet, but guns risked the chance of being heard.

The Soldier was still glad he had his guns on him.

He set the computer to run a program to stretch across the whole building, since he had it to himself; five holograms that would attack from varying heights, with ten physical opponents, set to move at a speed intended for a super soldier to keep up with, in dim conditions. The computer beeped its compliance, and set its countdown until it started the training program. Ten seconds.

The Soldier stepped into the middle of the room, taking note of obstacles of stationary dummies and punching bags and other exercise equipment. Holographic enemies could attack from behind. His physical opponents could hide. Good. He didn't want an easy session.

He pulled out his Yari IIs from behind his back and adjusted his HUD, set to low light conditions, and waited.

The lights went down. A figure skittered behind a bench press. He flung one knife at it, the knife sliding through the holograph and into the wall. A physical opponent slid up to move around the bench press. The Soldier dashed over, leaped over the bench press bar, grabbing it on his way down and spinning it around to knock the head off the physical opponent. He dropped the bar and grabbed his knife from the wall just in time to stab another physical dummy attacking from his right.

A third opponent ran in from behind, and the Soldier didn't even bother to see if it was physical or holographic, he planted his feet up against the wall and flipped back over the oncoming attacker, slamming both knives up to the hilts in the neck of the dummy. One hologram down, three physical dummies down. Four holograms lurking somewhere in the computers, seven more physical dummies scattered about. Even those he couldn't find all of, some still hiding in holding recesses.

Two more holograms fell to his Yari IIs, one attacking from above, the other trying to stop Bucky from getting the knife that had embedded itself in the ceiling from below. He got his knife and fell directly down on the hologram with both knives aimed for a head strike. Three dummies awaited him, and the Soldier landed down on one knee, then pushed himself around, his leg sweeping one dummy off its feet. The other two jumped and avoided. The Soldier chanced a gun shot or two and grabbed his SIG-Sauer off his thigh holster and fired two shots, one each into the heads of the dummies. They went down, leaving him to holster that as he again grabbed a knife and stabbed it into the fallen dummy that was not yet dead.

He stabbed again and again, until another dummy zipped closer and his attention was diverted. He felt the spiral of rage dragging him down with each 'kill'. Nobody had given him any mission, his only mission was to kill with nobody to direct who or where. Mindless dummies following a programming. A sophisticated programming, but not true training. No mission behind it. No reason but to try to work off an anger that didn't want to go away.

No more partner.

No more controller.

No one giving orders that would be followed.

Without that direction, the Soldier could already feel himself spiraling down as he found another opponent against a far wall and pinned it against the wall through the throat, hitting its face with his left fist again and again.

Bucky was going to have a hell of a time exorcising or even just keeping the old programming of 'protect' on the Soldier. Protect what? Who? Who made this order? Someone who didn't want them to leave Hydra.

And good luck with that exorcising, it'd never worked before.

With orders to remain behind, to remain in Hydra, the Soldier would eventually go out of control to get away, he and Bucky both knew it. They'd gotten out once, the Soldier would burn before he let Hydra keep them.

The Soldier's fist beat through the face of the dummy and into the wall.

"Bucky?"

The program halted suddenly, the light growing unnaturally bright and hurting his eyes through his HUD. He quickly turned the setting off and spun to look at the door. Steve had interrupted, the door open and the program stopped in response. Good thing, too, as a physical opponent sputtered to a stop just behind him. He'd gotten distracted, let his emotions make him miss an opponent and he would've been dead.

Brilliant, Soldier. You should be ashamed of yourself.

He took a half step to face Steve more fully, only moving beyond that to move the dummy that'd been behind him to the side. But he didn't offer an answer.

To the end of the line. But where'd you draw that line, Steve?

Maria showed up behind Steve, forcing him to step inside properly. Even from across the building, the Soldier could see Steve clenching his fists, a darkness that the Soldier had never seen covering his face. "Not Bucky."

"Not the way you think of him," the Soldier answered, jaw clenched under his mask. Every expression he could make would be hidden by his mask and goggles, so he felt free to let his face contort, teeth bared. Steve had no right being angry. None. Not after writing Bucky out of his memories. Not after rejecting the Soldier to the point of rejecting the Soldier's better side. Not after walking away. Not after not giving an answer, not after confirming that Bucky couldn't trust him.

Fuck you, Rogers.

"Why are you here?" Steve's tone was almost a growl, and Maria put her hand on his arm to calm him down. He pushed her hand away.

"Training." What, it wasn't fucking obvious?

"For what?"

None of your fucking business. "Potential threats to the team. That's my mission." It was the only one left that made sense when it came to Steve, and he wasn't sure how long he could hold onto that.

Steve released a deep breath, looking away briefly, then back to the Soldier. "And where'd you get this mission?"

"From you," the Soldier spat. Steve wasn't his controller anymore, he owed him no respect or caution. In fact, he really wasn't anything more than a pain in the ass mission that Bucky was forcing him to stick with "When you decided it was my job to get us in and out of Palestine safely. I've never been released from that mission, and nobody can tell me to stop anymore."

"What do you mean, anymore?" Steve demanded. Maria put her hand on his arm again, and again he pushed it away, but it held him there, kept him from storming in to pick a fight like he looked ready to. "That mission's over."

"Protecting the team remains a priority," the Soldier said through clenched teeth. "And I don't have a controller anymore to direct me. _You_ decided for us that you can't be trusted," he continued, his voice dangerously close to becoming a yell. "You get no say in what Bucky- I -do anymore. There's no more partnership, you don't call the shots anymore. I will continue my protection mission until it's no longer needed."

"Controller?" Steve's eyebrows shot up into a look of disbelief, angry disbelief as he pointed at himself. "Me? I was never a controller, I was a _partner._ I didn't order anyone around." The Soldier almost took a step back. He had never seen that sort of anger on Steve's face, and he looked about to beat the Soldier out of Bucky.

Worrisome. Threat level high. It'd guarantee destruction of any remaining hope for the friendship that Bucky would ultimately order the Soldier to protect.

"Bucky wondered why I hated you so much, this is why," Steve went on, even while the Soldier was evaluating escapes if it came to blows. "You call me a _controller_ of my _best friend_ i. _You_ were _supposed_ to be _gone."_ Each emphasis was accompanied by a rise in volume. "Give. My best friend. Back."

The Soldier's fists clenched the hilts of his knives until they shook and began to warp in his hands. Give him back? As if the Soldier was holding Bucky hostage. It was Steve that held them hostage, and he still refused to see, and gave all the more reason for distrust.

Give him back? Give _who_ back? There was nobody else in that brain but Bucky and his increasingly hard to control coping technique.

Escape. The situation was escalating too fast, and nothing was stopping the Soldier's mind from trying to feed off of Steve's anger. He darted his eyes around for another exit, but found none. He'd have to fight past Steve to get out.

Shit.

It was Maria that calmed the situation, moving to stand in front of Steve, slightly to his side, her arm held out in front of him. "Ease off, both of you. Steve, Bucky- or Soldier, however you care to be called -this fight doesn't need to happen when people are armed and dangerous. Steve, leave. Go on a run. Do something to calm down. Don't push this. I can handle him, I've done it before." She turned her head to look at the Soldier. "Put the knives away."

She was not his controller, but he obeyed the order. He still liked her, and Bucky was fond of her, so he'd listen for the moment. And she made a good- if indirect -point. He was armed, the situation was escalating, the Soldier hadn't found an escape, and was already contemplating the idea of fighting his way out as a good one.

Steve didn't seem to want to listen to Maria's good sense. "You expect me to stand by while he-"

"He what?" the Soldier interrupted, pulling off his goggles and face mask. "Holds your friend captive? The only one keeping us in Hydra is you. We want _out."_

Either removing the part of his uniform that made it easy to separate him from Bucky had stunned Steve, or the Soldier's statement had, because all Steve could do at that moment was stare, conflicting emotions on his face. The Soldier counted them. Shock. Worry. Anger. He was certain he saw the coin of love and hatred spinning in confusion.

Please let us get out of here, Steve.

"You're not staying," Steve finally said, voice hoarse and the Soldier would be entirely unsurprised if Steve ran off somewhere to throw a fit in private, destroy something as Bucky had the EMF detector, or maybe he'd just go take one of Bucky's Ativan and try to push away the accusation that he had to know by now was true.

Or maybe he'd do something else. Steve's behavior with Hydra in his head was erratic, no longer predictable.

Steve gaze stayed focused on the Soldier a moment longer, then at Maria, then left.

Maria turned to the Soldier, crossing her arms over her chest. Now that Steve and the Soldier weren't mixing like a bad chemical reaction, she didn't look terribly happy with the Soldier, either.

Oh for fuck's sake, all he was doing was blowing off some steam, who gave them the right to come interrupt and make things worse? He just wanted to be alone for awhile.

"You know, for someone who wants to prove himself to Steve as a trustworthy person, you sure didn't do a good job."

"I didn't make the first shot," he snapped, taking out one knife to examine the hilt. The finger ridges were a it deeper, though only by a centimeter or two. There should be no fault in its integrity, at least. He put it away.

"What happened?" Her voice was stern, giving orders, something that at once soothed his mind and pissed him off further. She wasn't his controller either, none of them were. Not until Bucky was finally willing to let go.

"I asked him about the sketchbook. He gave me a line of bullshit about it, and walked away when called on it. I said I trusted him and he walked away. The line has been reached, obviously."

She frowned. "Y- who am I talking to?"

"Me," he said. "I keep trying to tell Steve this. Please don't make me convince you, too."

That didn't seem to please Maria, but she let it pass. "Fine. I'm assuming I'm talking to your more deadly half. What's this about a controller?"

No, the Soldier wasn't going to be the one to handle Maria. He was worked up, Bucky wasn't going to let his own bad temper given horrible manifestation potentially ruin things with his girl.

He stared down at his mask and goggles in his hand. "Steve was only my partner until we were in the field," Bucky said. "I dunno if he ever understood that, but the Soldier can't work without someone in charge of him. Palestine was a failure and trying to fix that has been hard enough, I'm losing my goddam mind."

She dropped her arms, picking past a dead dummy or two to get to him. "I didn't realize this situation was doing that to you," she said. Her voice had dropped into a more normal tone, although there was a hint of placating in it, like trying to make sure that the Soldier was firmly on his leash.

Bucky sighed, running his flesh hand through his hair. His scalp was sweaty, and he wanted a long, hot shower to try to ease away emotions that water wouldn't actually work on. "The Soldier has always had someone in charge of him. I don't know how to function on a mission without the Soldier and he doesn't know how to function without someone in charge."

"But Steve doesn't have that right anymore," Maria more said than asked, confirmation rather than questioning. She stepped over to him and put her hand on his flesh arm.

"That's not the problem," Bucky said. "The problem is is that he's still stuck in that lab and we can't get out of there without him. That was the mission, those were the orders. Until Steve is willing to get up and leave with us, that mission is a failure and failure isn't acceptable."

He took in a deep breath, trying to fight back his emotions, to try to keep a rational head, or at least partly so, to try to put his feelings and issues aside to be focused on later, because there was still one more part of the mission he could do. "So now the only thing I can do is try to keep everyone else safe while I wait on him. Quite frankly, I'm so angry at him for it that I don't want anything to do with him. I sure as hell don't want to room with him anymore. If we ever get back to the Tower, I think I want my own place."

With a sigh, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I can't say that I blame you. But I think you should avoid premature decisions. I heard him. You heard him. He wants Bucky back."

Bucky bit back a snarl. "And I keep telling him we're a package deal. I was hoping that telling him that protecting the team was our mission would put that through his brain, but-" He cut himself off, not sure how to finish that beyond a desire to bare his teeth like a feral animal trapped in a corner.

"But all he heard was what he believed without listening, I know," Maria said. "This'll take time, but we'll fix it. Steve's stubborn, but it's obvious he doesn't want to lose you. There's still hope. I'll talk to Sharon, and in the meantime, I'll take care of you and we'll all work to keep these fights away from Bruce."

That he could agree with. "Bruce doesn't like getting caught in the middle anyway."

"No, he doesn't." She looked up at him. "In the meantime, you said the Soldier needs a controller? Someone in charge of him?"

He looked at the mask and goggles in his hand, tempted to throw them, as if that'd get rid of the problem entirely, as if that'd be enough to symbolically bury the Soldier. But he knew that wouldn't work, so he kept a tight grip on them. "He doesn't know what to do without someone else making the final call. That's why I agreed to let Steve go in there anyway. I had my part of the mission, he'd made the call to proceed."

"Then I'll take charge," she said. Before his brain could do more than short circuit, she went on. "We're not partners the way you and Steve were, but we're still partners. I know how to be in charge, I'll call the shots for him."

He sighed, then wrapped both arms around her, burying his face in her hair. "You don't have to do that," he said. "With everything going on with Steve, he's not going to be easy to control, even for me."

She pressed her cheek against his. "Having a controller would help him, right? We'll worry about Steve another time. I'll sic Sharon on him, I got you two. Trust me. Both of you."

Bucky wasn't sure he could. Not that he couldn't trust Maria, that was never in question. It was a matter of if the Soldier would accept someone where Steve stood after being rejected. Bucky had heard Steve loud and clear, he wanted Bucky back. There might still be a chance- everything aside, he _wanted_ there to be a chance.

But the sting of those lies was still sharp and the Soldier had burned, had the freedom to do something other than ice over and behave, and now putting out that fire was gonna be difficult. Maria would be up to the task, but Bucky worried she might get hurt in the process.

But he trusted her, and the Soldier trusted him, and they both agreed that it'd be a good temporary solution.

"All right," he said with a sigh, straightening. "We'll try it. If you don't think you can keep doing it, tell me. I won't be hurt. I know Hydra made me into a mess, I'm a handful. Steve would tell you stories, if he weren't in the mood he's in."

Steve.

Bucky really hoped there was anything left to salvage, to fix.

But for right now, he had a new partner to pay attention to. Steve would have to wait.


	15. You Lay Out Your Case

The Soldier released from active duty for the moment, Bucky returned to the uniform room and- with Maria standing guard at the door -changed back into his regular clothes, storing his uniform and weapons in their display. His clothes clung to him uncomfortably, his skin sticky with sweat from the workout and the heat of his uniform. He rubbed the back of his neck with a cringe; it was wet and overheated. He wanted to be dunked into a pool of cold water.

Maria looked up at him once he'd stepped out. "You're probably going to shower now. You look like you could stand one."

"Thanks for the assessment," Bucky grumped at her. "Yeah, I figured on a shower. I just hope Steve's taken your advice and gone on a run or something, because I don't wanna get trapped in that room with him." He sighed. "I'm not sure how to avoid that. I guess I could move to a dorm on the other side or something."

"I have an idea," she said, any earlier trace of formality she'd used in addressing the Soldier was gone. His verbal cues about who was who at any given time weren't exactly subtle, but even if they were, he knew she'd be able to figure out if she was talking to him, or his coping technique that he really had to figure out how to get rid of.

Probably wouldn't be able to though.

But Maria had an idea, and that was more important than morbid ruminations. "I'm open to it."

"Move in with me."

Tempting. But not without problems. "Maria, we agreed, we don't live together, being around each other that much would drive us nuts. We like our space."

"We do," Maria agreed. "But this is a temporary situation. I know it's not permanent, you know it's not permanent. But I think you and I will get along a lot better right now than you and Steve, and it'd make your mission to protect us difficult if you were on the other side of the building from us and something happened."

He let her words sink in, looking for fault in the argument. Sometimes there was, Maria wasn't perfect, but this time, he couldn't find anything wrong with her logic on the issue. "I won't turn down a new roommate," he said. "I hope you don't mind that I get a bit fussy about the bathroom."

She smiled. "I do too, we'll make our fussinesses work together. I'll go make room for you, you pack as many of your things as you think you need until this can be cleared up." She tilted her head down slightly, looking up at him with a pointed stare. "And it _will_ get cleared up." No threat, just assurance. "You two mean too much to each other to let this go here, and I think you both know it. But grab what you need, and if this looks to take longer, we'll get that extra dresser out of Steve's room and into ours. I don't think it'll take long, but if it does, I'll clear out the space. We'll manage."

"So I'm gonna be living out of a suitcase for awhile?" He didn't relish that thought, until he remembered the alternative was staying with Steve.

She shook her head. "No, I only take up three of the drawers and half the closet. It's not much, but you're not bringing over everything. Some things may need to remain in a suitcase, but not everything. And I'll try to find more room while you shower. Then we can work on making the bathroom into something we can share."

He kissed her cheek, careful to not smother her with his sweaty grossness. "You're a peach, Maria."

Now, to make it past Steve with his things.

Which, he found once he and Maria had gotten to the dorms and she'd disappeared into hers, he was not going to.

Steve was sitting on his side of the bed- the side closest the closet, but he could sleep on whichever side he wanted now, Bucky didn't give a damn -looking through one of his sketchbooks. Bucky didn't know which one. And he didn't really care.

Bucky didn't escape the dark look on Steve's face, hurt and anger and something Bucky didn't remember ever really seeing on Steve's face, not directed at him- hatred -when he stepped in. Any hope of Steve just ignoring him was gone.

"Relax," Bucky said in as nasty a voice as he damn well felt like using. "I'm the one you lie to, not the one you hate." He headed to the closet, trying to get to a suitcase stashed on the floor in the back while keeping as much room between him and Steve as possible.

"So you _are_ separate."

Bucky didn't even know how to read that tone. He could hear that hatred, but it didn't seem directed at him. It seemed directed far away, while what Bucky was on the receiving end of was an accusation of lying. Fucking hypocrite.

"That's what you want to think," Bucky replied, finally getting hold of one of the suitcases. He grabbed his one pair of shoes besides his boots on his way out of the closet. "I'm not going to correct you anymore."

Steve set down the sketchbook as Bucky walked by. "What're you doing?"

Bucky delayed an answer until he had the suitcase open and was putting as minimally needed clothing as possible in it. "Moving in with Maria."

"I thought you two needed your own space too much." Steve sounded surprised, and perhaps a bit desperate. Yeah, see, Steve? Your shit just lost you your best friend. Congratulations, asshole.

Bucky didn't answer, just walked into the bathroom and gathered up his things.

"Bucky?"

He came back into the main room to find Steve standing almost too close to the suitcase. Bucky arranged his things in the various pockets in the suitcase. "Don't try it, Steve," he said, dragging the suitcase over to the bed to get a couple pairs of pants out of the closet. "You're not winning any sympathy from me. I'm moving in with Maria."

"But leaving some of your stuff here."

"For now," Bucky said. "It's not a permanent situation."

Steve followed him to the closet. "Then you'll be coming back?" Hopeful. Still not willing to listen about the Soldier though, Bucky would bet. Not good enough.

Bucky zipped shut the suitcase, then looked up at Steve. "Don't act like you deserve a damn thing from me," he said, grabbing the handle of the suitcase and standing up. "You _lied._ You lied, you don't get a say in anything I do anymore."

That was hardly the heart of the issue, but it was a good element to throw out that might actually shut Steve up instead of letting things escalate into another fight about the Soldier, one that might come to blows.

Even though Bucky could see Steve actually starting to get wet eyed, fearful, like he might grab Bucky and refuse to let go, Bucky wasn't going to give him an inch. "Don't," he said. "Just don't. This is your own fault. You made this bed, you lie in it, and you lie in it alone, because I want nothing to do with it anymore."

With that, he left, closing the door behind him. It clicked shut, and he paused, just for a second, hoping to hear crying, hoping to hear that those tears had manifested. It'd give him hope, just a little, that Steve's regret would make him stop and _listen._ Bucky would give him as many chances as Steve wanted, he wasn't going to deny that, not even to himself, but until Steve was willing to really listen, those chances weren't going to matter.

At the silence, he crossed the hall and knocked on Maria's door.

"Come in!" came her voice from inside. Likely still setting things up for him; he'd packed quickly.

He put his hand on the doorknob and hesitated. Crossing that threshold with his suitcase in hand meant he really was doing this, that the packing hadn't just been a show to threaten Steve with.

The knob twisted in his grip and Maria opened the door. "I said come in," she said, confused. She studied him for a moment, a long moment in which he still couldn't bring himself to cross into her room, then drew in a deep breath, her shoulders lifting and dropping noticeably. "He was in the room, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," Bucky said, then nodded in the direction of the rest of the room behind her.

She took the unspoken request and stepped aside to let him in, then wordlessly took his suitcase from him and shut the door. She set the suitcase down and pulled him into a hug, burying her face against his metal shoulder and rubbing his back with one hand. "It'll get fixed," she promised.

Bucky didn't know if he was too riled to breakdown, or too close to a breakdown to react. But he clung to her, clung to those words. It was real, he was living with Maria and entirely because he and Steve were fighting too much for living together to be smart.

Smart would be having them separated by more than a hall, and that killed him more than being there did at all.

He straightened, pulling out of her grip. "I'm gonna shower before I sweat on you," he said, leaning around her to grab his suitcase. "I won't be long."

Maria probably knew he was dodging, and she probably knew he had fault in things and would eventually take him to task for them, but for now, she let him go. "Once you're done, set up your stuff on the sink, we'll figure out an arrangement that we both like."

"You got it," he said, disappearing into her bathroom. Their bathroom.

Really not the way he ever pictured living with a woman.

In the name of not doing the thinking thing the shower would inevitably give him too much time to do, he decided to dig out his toiletries and mess with her counter, trying to arrange his things around hers in a way that didn't make his brain twitch. He knew she'd said they'd do it together, but showers were too easy to think in, and he wanted to put that off.

But arranging razors and toothbrushes really only took all of a minute, if that.

So he stripped, tossed aside his dirty clothes to wash later, and got into the shower. Because why not? He was sweaty and felt disgusting and maybe, just maybe, the water would wash away the tight knot in the center of his back and he could focus on that instead of the thoughts that were already manifesting.

He'd gotten used to tub/shower arrangements, although at that moment, with the Soldier still lurking so close to the surface, he almost couldn't make himself get in under the spray. Cold. Too hot. Burned. Hurt. Too much. Too much everything.

Shut up, you've gotten us in enough trouble.

Letting the hot water pound on his back between the shoulder blades, Bucky leaned his head against the wall, his left arm raised and resting on the wall above his head.

He'd moved out. He'd left Steve. He'd seen that hurt and fear and panic and he'd fucking walked away and it twisted in his gut like a gun shot. He smacked his fist into the wall in anger, anger at himself for walking away, and anger at Steve for _not fucking listening._

His metal fist left a small dent in the wall and he jerked his head back, staring at it. Shit, Maria wasn't going to like that. He stared at the guilty hand, at the familiar lines and grooves of the biomechtium that shifted and flexed, just like flesh. Like a normal hand. Like his own.

A weapon hand. Belonged to a weapon.

He almost hit the wall again. He hated the Soldier. Hated the weapon, hated that he didn't know how to keep up with Steve to protect him without that leftover relic that should've been hung at the swinging tree when he left Hydra. Saying he hated Hydra was such a broad statement, that it was like saying the sky appeared blue due to how sunlight interacted with the atmosphere.

But the Soldier. Bucky had never hated that part of himself as much as he did right then, not since the early days, not since finishing detox and realizing what the Soldier had done to Steve. But he blamed Hydra for that more than the Soldier. This was all the Soldier. This was Bucky. If he hadn't needed the Soldier so desperately, if he'd only been able to exorcise that ghost before Steve could see him and fear him and hate him.

Ghost.

Right.

There was a little girl who needed to be turned over someone's knee and told to behave that haunted the wires, and he didn't care to get zapped because he was causing destruction to the walls of 'her' home, so he washed up quickly and got out, dried off, got dressed.

"Hey Maria," he said, poking his head out the bathroom door, leaning forward on one foot and gripping the doorway for balance. "Care to come see if my attempts at sharing the sink are acceptable?"

Maria was sitting crosslegged on the bed, an unopened manilla envelope on the bed in front of her. She looked up at him. "Of course."

"Why do you have that?" he asked, stepping fully into the bedroom. "Those are the Winter Soldier files."

"I know," she said, looking down at the envelope. He couldn't tell if there was any apology in that or not. "I know you're sensitive about these, and you'd probably prefer it if I never saw them. I haven't looked. I guess I thought I'd find something in there, like I did with Steve's sketchbooks." She sighed, setting the envelope on the nightstand on the side of the bed he took when he visited. "But that only made things worse, I think."

He had to count to ten. "Those files are what makes things worse. If I was smart, I'd shred the whole fucking thing." He walked around the bed to pick up the envelope and look at it. Whatever Steve had first seen in that file, way back, he didn't know. Maybe just the horror that had been inflicted on Bucky by people Steve already hated. Reason to find and help him.

What he saw this time was Hydra's weapon that he tied around Bucky's neck like a noose and dragged him around by, trying to remove Hydra.

He tossed the envelope down in disgust. "No," he said. "Things'll be fine, but I needed to know about those. He needs the chance to figure his own shit out, and I don't think he would if I hadn't called him on those books." Finally, he looked over at Maria. "It's like an infected wound. That was a lie that had to get dragged up to the surface."

She smiled faintly. "I'm glad that you still are able to see that. I guess the shower made you feel better."

He shook his head. "Not really," he said. "I'm saying something nice in the hopes it'll make it true."

She sat silently, looking at him, and he knew she was thinking, so he stayed quiet and let her think. "What do you need me to do?"

"What, with Steve? Tell him he's a dumbass who needs to start thinking of acceptable apologies pretty damn quick."

"He's not the only one I'm going to be telling that to," she said, crawling across the bed to sit on the edge of his side, nearest to where he was standing. "And I think you know that."

He scowled. "Please tell me what I'm supposed to be apologizing for here." He looked back at the files. "I'm not apologizing for those files or what's in them."

"I never said you should," Maria said. "And even in his state of mind right now, I don't think Steve would ask you to, either. What was done to you was done against your will. I haven't even read the files and I don't have to have to know that. If I were to talk to Steve and decided he genuinely blamed you for that project, I'd tell you to cut him loose. I'd tell Tony and everyone else here to cut him loose. You know I would."

That thought didn't sit well in his stomach- either thought, really, that Steve would blame him for Hydra's experiments, or that he'd have to permanently end their friendship. Even without the Soldier all but imprinting himself on Steve like a puppy starved for affection, Steve had been part of his life for so long that Bucky could barely remember a time before him. Steve was the single most important thing in his world, had been for decades. His friend, his brother, his partner.

The idea of having to 'cut him loose' was a terrifying one to even let into his head.

But Maria had more to say, and she'd flat out stated that Steve wasn't the only one who needed to apologize. Right that second, Bucky couldn't see what for.

"So what am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Where's my blame in this?"

Maria didn't seem bothered by the sharp crack in his tone. She patted the spot beside her, inviting him to sit down. He declined. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. "Bucky, I don't think he had any idea before any of this that the Soldier was still a solid part of your mind."

"You must be joking," he snapped. "He's had every chance to see him still there every time we suit up, _including_ after we moved to the Tower."

Her temper remained cool, despite how his wasn't. "But did you ever tell him outright?"

Bucky opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. "N-no," he said, stumbling over the word in confusion. "Why would I? What kind of conversation is that to have?"

"A necessary one that you're trying and failing to have right now," she said. "And that could've been avoided if you'd been honest from the start." When he looked away, she moved her head to look him in the eye. "And you know he'd understand it now, even if he didn't remember that conversation. He's responding to all of us as if he'd never lost his memories for the most part. Except you."

Bucky crossed his arms defensively, his left index finger tapping on his flesh arm. "It's not a conversation that would have any sane reason to come up," he protested. "And what he's doing right now is trying to hang me for the Soldier. That's not my fucking fault."

She shook her head. "No, it's not. But again, this situation might be going different if he knew about the Soldier. And I know he didn't, because I know him well enough from before that drug that he would've come to me to try to help him free you from what he thought was a mental prison you'd stuck yourself in."

Even in his anger, Bucky couldn't deny that. "You don't know it'd be going differently," he said. "That lab was cold-blooded murder, he still could've easily thought that they did something to me to change how the Soldier and I interacted, and we'd be right where we are now, him trying to drown Hydra's influence in me when what I did to those doctors was just as much my decision as the Soldier's. Nothing would be different."

That earned a deep, heaving sigh from Maria. "Maybe, maybe not. Either way, you weren't honest, and if you had been, chances are high that he'd be reacting differently now than he is."

When Bucky refused to answer, Maria finally stood up and stepped in front of him. He leaned back a bit, almost taking a step away. Maybe living with her wouldn't be any easier; he didn't need a fucking lecture for not doing something that he never should've had to. "The Soldier isn't some 'mental prison'," he snapped.

She shook her head. "No, he's not. I know that. I understand that. So do the others. But Steve doesn't, and I'm willing to bet you never gave him reason to even realize he was still there, much less form an opinion about his presence. If he'd known, I could've corrected him for you. I told you, he would've come to me, and you know that."

Desperation to get out of this conversation- even if not smoothly -made him latch onto the last thing she said. "You really think he would've believed you?"

"Not without you confirming what I said, but I could've kept him in a calm mindset so you could explain." She started to lift her hand, then paused, lowering it. "You're afraid of something."

Bucky wasn't really sure what she saw- he was afraid of a lot of things right then. "How about that right now, my partner has turned into such a prick that I've been forced to move out because I can't stand being around him anymore?" he said, unfairly, not accurately, or not entirely, anyway. "Seems like watching a friendship die that way is something to be worried about."

She was quiet, studying him. "That's not it at all, is it?"

He closed his eyes, trying to tune her out, her concern, her voice, tune out everything but the sound of his heartbeat so his brain could try to coalesce something in there into words she could understand. Maybe something that would satisfy her and keep him from having to give voice to what he was really the most afraid of, had been afraid of since he entered that DC apartment.

Now was not the time to focus on that fear. That was something that would eventually have to be dealt with, but not then, not yet.

But nothing else wanted to form shape, so he decided that ghost would have to get set aside in favor of another one.

"We have a ghost to talk to," he said, abruptly changing the subject. "I can't repair the EMF detector until Sharon gets back with that part, but you can ask Steve a favor."

Maria let the change in subject slide. "Is that a good idea right now?"

"Probably not, but if he wants to track down this ghost and find out if she's friendly or not, he doesn't get a choice. Just don't tell him it was my idea."

"What idea?"

"I need him to draw a picture of Kitty. After dinner, we'll prop it up on his table easel and check out the cats for awhile. We'll put the recorder right by the picture. It seems stupid, but it might give her a solid object to latch onto to talk to us. I don't like bringing in the magical psychic hoodoo shit with this, but we don't have a lot of science to work with. I'll take what I can get."

She tilted her head. "That's not a bad idea, actually," she said. "We'll take care of our things in the bathroom, then I'll approach him with the idea. Once I know where he wants to go work, I want you to find a place where he's not to do something to occupy yourself with."

"That's easy, the workshop. He never goes in there."

"Then go there. Make something. Tear something apart and remake it. Don't break the EMF detector more than it already is, but how much do we need that electromagnetic field generator anymore?"

Breaking something so he could repair it sounded relaxing, actually. "I can keep myself busy," he said.

"Good, let's take care of the bathroom, then I'll let you go hide before I approach him."

Deep breath. Calm. Calmer. He took Maria's hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get angry at you. I'm just really not in the mood for that discussion anymore."

"I know," she said. "It was something you needed to consider. And you know that whatever is causing that fear, you need to deal with. You know you can talk to me about it, too."

Sigh. "I know, I just-" He shook his head. "Nevermind, I'm not getting into it. Let's just go take care of the bathroom so I can get to work."

The bathroom took a little work, but not much. Bucky had done a decent job working around her things as it was. Once they were both comfortable with the arrangement, they left the dorm, Bucky heading down first as fast as he could to get some wood glue from the basement to try to reinforce the breadboard the broken EMF detector was built on.

The variable power source was in pieces by the time Sharon showed up with a replacement for the voltage regulator. She knocked on the door to the workshop before opening it and poking her head in. "Hey, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Bucky looked over at her without turning his head, seated up on the work counter, the EMF next to him, glue almost dry, and the pieces of the variable power source scattered in front of him.

"Nope."

She walked over to the counter, setting down the tiny bag with the broken part. "Steve seemed upset when I came home. What happened?"

"I moved in with Maria," Bucky said, tossing the parts for the power source out of reach so he had room for the EMF detector. "Steve and I need some space."

Sharon's voice dipped into a scared whisper. "So it's over?"

Keep a level head. Don't frighten her, and for the love of everything good and holy, Soldier, keep your mouth shut. "For the moment."

A several second pause passed while he pulled the EMF detector over to him. He thought she might just leave at that rate.

"What am I supposed to do?" She sounded like tears were threatening to form.

"Keep Steve away from me."

"What about you?"

"I have Maria."

Then her voice got thick. "Steve's not the only one I care about here," she said. "You're like a brother to me too, not just Steve. I want to help repair my family."

He looked at her, blinking, then set the piece down. He felt the guilt take over his expression. "Sharon, that _is_ what we need right now to repair things," he said, reaching out his hand and setting it lightly on her shoulder. "Steve and I are at a point where we _can't_ work on repairing anything. We're both too angry. So just keep us separated as much as possible. Be there for him. He needs you."

Then he moved his hand to wipe away the few tears that had escaped. "And if you want, you can talk to Maria, see what you two ladies can come up with to beat us over the heads with brooms. Might accidentally work. But right now, he and I need space and he needs someone. Bruce would rather avoid the fights and just take care of our medicines to keep us going on our own, so that leaves you two ladies in charge."

She nodded, grabbing his hand tightly. "You need to come back to us too." Then she let go of him and stepped back. "I'm going to go see what Steve is doing and let the others know you're working on the EMF thing. Should we go ahead and start dinner?"

"Yeah," he said, looking at the breadboard. "I just need to replace this one piece, it won't take long."

"Okay."

Once she left, Bucky had to clench his jaw to keep his own emotions in check. Instead, he rested his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, fingers gripping his way too long hair tightly. "How do I get rid of you?" he whispered, staring down at the table, fighting back tears of frustration. "You're supposed to be a ghost."

Ghost.

Right.

The Soldier had to wait. Right now, Kitty was the priority ghost. They had to determine if she was a threat before Bucky could even try to worry about getting rid of the Soldier for good, if it was even possible. That may be one ghost that he'd never get rid of. But he could try.

Kitty first, though.

The repairs on the circuit were easy, and he was done within a few minutes. Not enough time for dinner to have been cooked, and Steve was likely to be in the dining room by now, and if not now, then soon.

Another haunting ghost. One he'd have to deal with. They couldn't avoid each other forever.

With that unpleasant thought in mind, he grabbed the EMF detector and hopped off the work counter. Food might make him feel better, even though he really didn't feel up for eating. But with as much energy as the Soldier had expended in the training center, he needed it. Especially if they were gonna be chasing ghosts all night.

He headed downstairs.


	16. Lovin' The Ghost In Front Of Me

Sharon had taken Bucky's advice and request to heart and planted herself on Steve's right side, putting at least herself between the two men. Bucky only briefly paused when entering the cafeteria with the fixed EMF detector to note that and where Bruce was sitting. Bruce must've taken advice from Sharon as well, because he'd made himself at home on Steve's left side, also blocking off that contact, when he usually was on the opposite side of the table from Steve.

If Steve noticed this, he didn't say anything. Bucky was sure he did, he'd be stupid not to, and despite Steve's actions lately, he still wasn't stupid. Just stubborn and hurting.

That hurting that Bucky could feel radiating off of Steve, could see clearly in his eyes when he glanced back at Bucky's entrance, almost made Bucky tell both Sharon and Bruce to get lost and let him sit by his brother.

No, they needed time apart. Bucky had two ghosts to deal with before he could help Steve with his. They both needed Bucky at his best, which he wasn't. Maybe after this, he would be, or at least have Kitty taken care of. The Soldier might be another matter.

But later.

So he set the EMF on the nearest table to their usual and sat next to Sharon. He was glad for the insulation between himself and Steve, but it still felt unnatural to not be right next to Steve's right side. At least he _was_ still on Steve's right, a layer of human insulation aside.

"All fixed?" Bruce asked, sipping a cup of what smelled like peppermint tea. Or some sort of mint.

"All fixed," Bucky replied, leaning to the right slightly to watch Maria in the kitchen through the serving window. "Did she say anything in warning to any offers of help?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow over his mug. "You have to ask? She said for everyone to keep their butts planted."

Sharon looked at him. "She said that I got the part, you and Bruce are the scientists who have to set everything up, and Steve drew the portrait for the recorder, that means she gets dinner and the kitchen."

Steve. Act casual, don't bring the white elephant up, it needs to remain quiet for awhile. But, Steve was mentioned, as was that picture that Bucky had asked for, and acting like Steve wasn't there or mentioned would be just making that elephant tap dance some more.

So in the interest of avoiding hearing Riverdance in the cafeteria, he looked around, leaning back and looking back at the table nearest the door. Steve's easel was set up with a picture of Kitty in what looked like charcoals. Steve was getting better at those, too.

"Oh yeah," he said, studying the picture a moment, then turned back to Sharon. "Maria had a good idea." Okay, compliment Steve or not? Would it make it worse to talk to him like nothing happened, or to avoid it entirely? Now, is that to be mentioned, or not? He _had_ probably taken too much time to study the picture, so probably say something. Maybe.

Divorce was complicated.

He decided on complimenting. Just because the others knew about the temporary split didn't mean he had to make it worse for them by putting them in the middle of the silent treatment.

"Good job. Getting better at charcoals."

There. Safe. Not invested, not _not_ invested. The lack of eye contact helped.

Steve didn't look back at the picture, just focused his eyes- blue, but a bit bloodshot, how long had he been crying? Jesus, that just makes this harder -on Bucky. "Thanks. Didn't have a lot of time for color, but I figured Maria's idea would work better with something more than a pencil sketch."

So much for the lack of eye contact. That look put a bowling ball in Bucky's stomach.

"Good ideas, both of you," Bucky said, trying his best to remain neutral. Being anything but warm or cold to Steve was hard. There'd never been an in between with them, not even when Bucky still was not out of Hydra's grip.

Stick with what you're doing. It's the only thing that's going to work. At least on his end. What Steve did might change that.

Steve, don't be stupid.

He leaned over again to watch Maria. "How long ago did she start dinner?"

He saw Bruce glance just beside him to Sharon; out of the corner of his eye, Bucky could see Steve staring down at his folded hands on the table, and Sharon looking between them before settling on Bruce.

Bucky idly wondered if Steve was praying, or just trying to keep his hands still.

"Not long," Bruce said, interrupting that thought. "Hungry or eager to get to work?"

"Both?" Bucky shrugged. "My eating habits lately haven't exactly been that great. Too focused on work." In mission mindset. But that was one of those words nobody wanted to hear, especially not Steve, so he refrained from doing more than vaguely referencing his habits.

"You never did like eating when you were working on something," Steve said softly, still looking at his hands.

Shit. Steve, don't.

"At least after you came home, back in DC."

Steve, don't. Damnit, don't.

"You remember that?" Bucky decided to keep avoiding the word mission and just- despite the sudden stillness in both Bruce and Sharon's body languages -keep going with this with a light touch. As long as neither he nor Steve turned this into a yelling match, encouraging returning memories was something that had to be done, the status of their friendship irrelevant.

"Just a bit," Steve said. If there was more in his head that he wanted to say, he didn't give it voice, let it lie there.

Just a bit, he says. Bucky could smell that lie a mile away. Steve remembered far more than he was admitting.

"You'll get there," Bruce said, coming to everyone's rescue. "Amnesia takes awhile to work through, physical or psychological. Or otherwise." He eyed his mug like it was committing a crime. "I'll be right back. I need more tea, and Maria said hot dish is best served at the table so everyone can get the portion they want. I may as well get plates and forks while I'm up."

Ooh, an escape. Bucky wanted that. "Want some help?"

Bruce almost seemed to hesitate, but Bucky wasn't quite sure if that's what he read in Bruce's body language or not. He was getting bad at reading people these days. He placed the blame for that on Steve's new erratic behavior. "Wouldn't hurt to get some help with drinks," Bruce said, then smiled wryly. "My super power is knocking buildings down, not growing extra arms and hands."

"Consider it done," Bucky said, getting up. He followed Bruce around the table, walking around behind Steve. It avoided eye contact, avoided seeing anything in expression that might make someone on either end say something stupid. Enough stupid had been said.

Maria didn't look surprised when Bruce and Bucky walked in. "I wondered when you two would show up," she said, voice low and probably inaudible to Sharon and Steve from across the main part of the room.

Bucky decided not to read into that question just yet, digging into a cupboard to find the glasses. "You expected us?"

Bruce put the kettle on one of the stove's many burners. "It was discussed."

Bucky set a stack of glasses down, looking over at them. "If this is about Steve, just shut up." He wasn't in the mood for this conversation.

Bruce glanced out the serving window. Bucky followed his gaze; Steve had his head in his hands like a heavy weight was on his shoulders, and Sharon was rubbing one arm, saying something far too quiet to be heard in the kitchen.

"And here it seemed you were handling it better than him."

Bucky came perilously close to grabbing a glass and throwing it at Bruce for that statement, but that would only end in everyone's death more than likely, and Bucky's temper tantrums weren't worth that. "You really thought that? I'm just a better liar. Believe me, this isn't easy on me, either."

Bruce got down a stack of plates, using the closeness as an excuse to put his hand on Bucky's shoulder. Not a safe move, and Bucky was forced to roll his shoulder away. Bruce took it with grace. "I didn't really think that," he said. "You know I wouldn't."

A glass cracked under Bucky's grip. "Then why did you say it?"

Bruce, brave and stupid man that he was, put his hand back on Bucky's shoulder. "To remind you that you _are_ a better liar. Don't let those lies step on progress just because you want to spare our feelings. We'll handle ourselves and play referee if we have to."

To spare their feelings? That was an arrogant assumption. That was only one part of it. If Bucky didn't keep up that brave facade, he'd break into a million pieces. He missed his brother. It was mostly selfish.

Deep breath. Breathe. Bucky set aside the cracked glass and counted out how many were left in the stack. "I didn't do badly before." he said, pushing away everything he couldn't deal with just then. "You gonna need a glass, or are you having tea?"

"Tea," Bruce said. "And no, you didn't. But I also know that you're on a mission right now, and we all know what that means, even Steve. You start tromping around when you're on a mission."

"He's right," Maria said, pulling a casserole dish out of the oven, followed by another, smaller one. Both smelled good, topped with tater tots that had cooked to a golden brown. Under it was layers of Midwestern goodness that Maria had been smart enough to get the recipe for to take back to New York.

Instead of acknowledging that, he leaned towards the food, peering around Bruce. Both Bruce and Maria noticed. Maria shook her head with an affectionate smile. "You can have some when the table's set."

"At least you have an appetite right now," Bruce said. "I wasn't sure if your bad eating habits were going to continue or not. Like Steve said, you don't eat very well when you have something on your mind."

Back to Steve. Stop that, both of you.

Bucky shrugged. "If I didn't have a higher metabolism that I've been ignoring lately, I still wouldn't want to eat. But it's kinda caught up to me." Then he looked around Bruce again at the hot dish. "And the Hill family hot dish is fantastic."

"Official endorsement, Maria," Bruce said. "I suspect we'll all be satisfied with it."

"You'd better," Maria said. "Now go on, go set the table. Bucky, waters please?"

While Bruce took the plates out, with five forks stacked on top of them, Bucky filled the glasses with water- it'd have to be good enough, anyone who wanted something else could come get it themselves -and after pausing to wash his hands, he grabbed the glasses, one in his metal hand and the other three held together by the lips with his fingers in the water, then headed out after Bruce.

"Don't like water, tough tits," he said, setting down the glass in his metal hand by Steve, then freed one glass in his right hand to set down by Sharon.

Steve looked a bit more braced for Bucky's presence than he had when Bucky first showed up. "You could've carried two in each hand, you know. Would've been easier."

Bucky set his and Maria's glasses down, then waggled his metal fingers at Steve. "Glasses would've slipped out." Stop forgetting about that, Steve. Stop trying to push it out of your mind. Even with the amnesia, this shouldn't be new to you anymore.

"Mm. Didn't think of that." Steve studied his water glass, and Bucky had two thoughts that battled for first place- A) Steve was internally glowing that he got the special glass held by a hand Bucky shared with very few people, and B) that Steve was trying to decide if that hand had left germs behind. A won for first spot, the instinct that spawned it strong in Bucky's brain, but B, as petty as it was, overpowered it, and droped A back into second place.

If the Soldier were actually petty, Bucky would blame that part of his mind for that, but the Soldier wasn't petty. He sometimes assumed the worst, but only in self-preservation. There was no self-preservation to be had in that sort of thought, so Bucky had to own up to it on his own.

Damnit. That wasn't helping.

He elected to push that whole line of thinking away by getting where he could leave Steve and Steve's interest in that glass. He went back to the kitchen. "I saw you had two dishes to carry out," he said to Maria, carefully side-stepping as she almost walked into him.

She adjusted her grip on the larger dish, hot pads between her hands and the heated edges of the dish. "I do. Grab a serving spoon too, will you?"

"Yes, ma'am." He grabbed two extra hot pads while he was at it, and hurried out after her.

Bruce took the extra hot pads from him once he was out there and set them down for the casserole dishes to be set out on. Steve and Sharon both asked what was in the hot dish, Sharon hesitant and Steve merely nosy.

"Nothing spicy, Sharon," Maria assured her. "Just veggies, hamburger, onion, and a can of cheese soup and one of celery soup." She gave Bucky the evil eye. "He doesn't approve, but my family has always used Campbell's for those soups and I always will now that I have the recipe."

Bucky held up his hands in defense while the larger dish worked its way around the table towards him. "I think it's good the way it is. I just wonder if it could be improved with homemade soups."

"Don't try to 'improve' my mother's recipe," Maria snapped.

Whoops, bad territory. Bucky backed down fast enough to give himself whiplash.

Maria looked at Sharon. "There's a few seasonings, but again, I promise, nothing spicy. Just some variations that made Mom's recipe unique."

Sharon smiled. "Good. We have work to do tonight, I really can't chance an upset stomach."

"About that." Bucky looked back at the EMF detector on the other table, almost missing the last of the bigger dish being shoved in his direction, followed quickly by the smaller dish.

"I thought it was fixed," Steve said, not looking away from his food.

"It is," Bucky said, dishing up his plate so he could push the casserole dishes aside. "At least, it damn well better be. I dismantled the power source, so I couldn't test it, but unless I'm that out of practice, it'll work."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Not really a problem," Bucky said. "But thinking about it, I'm not sure how much activity we'll pick up on that we can attribute to Kitty." He took a bite of his food before continuing. "If she lives in the wires, unless she wants to be known right away, it's not like she can't hide. A free floater might not get away from us, but that thing's not gonna notice anything odd about electricity going through the wiring in the place."

Sharon looked at him. "How sure of that are you?"

"No idea," Bucky admitted. "I'm not a professional ghost hunter. We only built that thing because we said 'ghost' and immediately went for whatever thing we could remember. But most ghosts don't live in the electrical systems of their haunts, to my knowledge."

Bucky eyed the handful of cats gathered, then over at the door when he heard Cali's distinct meow, followed by her walking in through the door like there was nothing weird about a cat going through a wall. It'd ceased being weird after the third or fourth time she'd done it, obvious that she was just showing off, but in an active talk about ghosts, it suddenly seemed weird again.

"Those, on the other hand, we can test," he said, pointing at Cali with his fork. "Hello, princess. Yes, I'll share, then you get to help me test something I made. Deal?"

Cali took her place on the floor next to his chair, tail curled around her legs as she waited.

Sharon leaned over to look at the cat. "What if the detector spikes with them?"

"Then we have more evidence that they're something not natural," Bucky said. "Better than just a vague hypothesis. If we get anything on Kitty that points to her existing at all, which we're not even a hundred percent sure on, it'd strengthen the idea of a link between her and the furballs."

Bruce tapped his plate with his fork. "We really have been making some assumptions that we probably should have, haven't we?"

Bucky shrugged. "None of us have encountered a ghost that we had to try to track down and potentially live with," he said. "And we're resorting to what you and I would've considered to be junk science." He took a bite before continuing. "Although that reminds me, you're setting up the IR camera downstairs, right?"

"That's right."

"Remember not to get touchy feely with whatever you're pointing it at."

"I won't," Bruce said. "I figured on setting it up downstairs, pointed at those wires. We'll see the heat pretty well, but if there's a surge, we'll catch it."

When Steve made a confused noise behind a bite of food that he was too polite to talk around, Bruce came to his rescue. "Infrared is going to pick up on heat," he said. "It doesn't pick up on visible light. Heat isn't as transient as visible light, either, so if I were to touch whatever I wanted to study with the camera, we might see a ghostly hand for part of the recording before the surface I touched cooled off."

Steve made a noise around his food, then swallowed and looked between Bruce and Bucky. "So what's the plan?"

Bucky had to chew on his tongue to keep from issuing an order like he was in charge of this mission. Maria had taken over handling the Soldier directly, but everyone- including Maria -had placed this specific job on his and Bruce's hands. Instead of stepping on toes and potentially causing an explosion, he decided to give Bruce a chance to say something first.

Bruce had looked to Bucky, then must've realized that Bucky was throwing that little overheated potato to him. "Well, I have to take the camera downstairs to the basement. I want to set it up in front of that exposed wiring. Like I said, if there's any surges in the electricity, the IR will pick up on the heat. Bucky can wander around with the EMF detector. Steve, if you wanna set up the recorder in front of that picture, push that table with it as close to a wall as you can, that'd work. The girls can go with Bucky."

"Neither of those are going to take long," Steve pointed out. "Do we spread out after that?"

"How? We have only one detector," Bruce pointed out. "We can meet up with the girls and Bucky, see what they've gotten." Bruce looked at the pretty much decimated casserole dishes and the mostly empty plates. "First order of business is to feed the leftovers to the cats to try to get them all in one bunch. We can see if they spike the detector at all. It'd be unusual for a physical creature to create quite what we're hoping to find. There's anomalies to account for, but I think if we get a strong reading, we can safely assume they're tied to whatever's in the wires, whether it's Kitty or something else entirely."

Bucky took a piece of hamburger off his plate. "You heard him, Cali. It's leftover's time. Here's your treat." He set the meat down for her. She was clearly in charge, as whenever Bucky gave her a treat, the other cats stayed backed off. "She doesn't usually mingle with the others. I'll check her out after I get the group. She may actually be our primary source of consternation here."

"That doesn't explain the image over the mower," Steve said.

Bucky shook his head. "Not entirely, you're right. Unless Cali is Kitty's physical manifestation." He looked up at Steve, the previous awkwardness set aside for mission time. "We're dealing with a lot of unknowns here, and we don't even know if this 'science' actually detects ghosts. I'm sure it does sometimes, but the biggest question is if those detections can be chalked up to chance or not. Maybe they can, maybe it's really a ghost."

Steve frowned. "Obviously _something's_ going on."

"Which is why I'm more confident in what we might find than if we were just investigating a so-called haunted house or something," Bucky said with exaggerated patience. Jesus, Steve, now you're just being argumentative for the sake of it. "We're just gathering more evidence so our speculations are based on more than just discussion."

"Science nerd."

Bucky had to hold onto his expressions with the strength of the Soldier to keep from retorting. Being polite was one thing, trying to act like the friendship was still in one piece was a right Steve didn't have, not anymore. At least for now.

Maria saved the day, bless her heart. "We have two science nerds who both know better what they're doing than we do. I say we follow Bruce's plan. First, we'll give these leftovers to the cats. Bucky, be ready with that detector of yours. Once we see what happens with them, we'll split up. When Steve and Bruce are done setting up their devices, they can track us down and find us. I recommend nobody use their comms, that might give us false positives where we don't want."

Acceptable thought.

Shut up, Soldier, you're not wanted on this mission.

Bucky gave his plate to Cali, who proved herself a lady and was polite about accepting it. As usual, the other cats hung back from her.

"Okay," he said, walking over to the other table and grabbing his freshly repaired EMF detector. "Unleash the hoard."

The other four grabbed plates and the casserole dishes and cautiously approached what looked to be all of the other nineteen cats meowing hungrily, some weaving through the group like a long snake that occasionally stopped to stand one cat up on its hind feet.

"Ready?" Bruce said, starting to crouch down.

"Ready," Bucky confirmed.

The others hesitated just another moment before plates and dishes were all but dropped into the middle of that group and they just barely got out of the way before the herd of hungry cats started gnawing on them to get to the food.

Bucky inched around them to the other side from the others- all of whom had backed away from the impending massacre -and slowly leaned towards the cats, the EMF detector held out in his right hand.

He registered the spike caused by the proximity to the cats just seconds before every cat in that group turned to him and started giving him warning hisses and growls and a tenseness of the group's body language that if he didn't back the fuck up, he was about to be attacked by nineteen unhappy cats.

Bucky decided to heed their warning with a "shit shit okay settle down!" and got back around the table. Cali was over there and swiped at his ankles, causing him to jump and take a few more steps back. "Okay, okay, all you furballs calm down, I'm not taking the food."

He eyed Cali. Her acting hostile, even when it came to someone being around her food, was odd. It seemed more likely with the others that getting too close to their food had set them off, but the detector had spiked when Cali swatted at him, too.

Hm.

"What'd we get, Bucky?" Maria asked from far away from the table, she and the others on the opposite side from him.

"Nineteen food aggressive cats," he said, looking at the cracked voltmeter.

"What about Cali?" Sharon asked. "We've never seen her make a hostile move towards you. She's practically in love with you."

"I told you, my mother dunked me in cat pheromones when I was a baby," he said, tone testy. "But the group buried the needle, so somehow, a mass of cats that can go through walls generates a helluva big electromagnetic field." He leaned ever so carefully towards Cali, who hissed at him as the detector got close.

Bucky decided to back up. "Her too."

"Maybe the cats didn't like the detector?" Sharon suggested. "We've never tried to get positive proof from them of what they are beyond cats that can walk through walls."

"And play with ball lightning," Bruce added.

"That too."

Maria swung around the table to stand next to Bucky. "Is it possible they're the only source of our electric anomalies?" she said. "That doesn't explain Kitty's image in that St. Elmo's Fire that you and Steve saw, but it's pretty obvious they generate a lot of energy."

"Possible," Bucky said. "Let's set up the camera and recorder first, see if we get anything from those when we look in the morning. We can look for other potential problem areas, make sure it's not just the cats." He looked at Bruce, hoping Bruce would pick up on Bucky needing someone to confirm that order rather than leaving him holding the ball.

Bruce, smart man that he was, did seem to pick up on it, as his next words were "yeah, let's follow the plan. Steve, set up the recorder. I'm going to take the camera down to the basement. Girls, stay with Bucky. It occurs to me that if we're harassing something that doesn't want us to harass it, and it has this much control over EMFs, it might be able to disable his arm. Someone should be with him."

"I'll go," Steve said. "Sharon can set up a recorder, it's not hard."

Bucky slowly turned his head to stare at Steve. Steve had jumped in on that way too fast. Faster than he should've for someone he was actively lying to and potentially hating, if he'd start seeing the Soldier and Bucky as the same person.

That sounded like Steve from before Palestine. That sounded like Bucky's best friend who didn't like Bucky going into dangerous situations without him, anymore than vice versa.

The other three looked between them, as if trying to decide if it was a good idea to put Steve that close to Bucky with only Maria between them to calm any fights, but Steve had sounded very firm, sounded like he was issuing his own order and was expecting to be deferred to.

Maria was the first to react beyond that, taking in a deep breath. "All right," she said. "Steve, you're with Bucky and I. Sharon, Bruce, catch up." She looked at Bucky. "I say we start with the classrooms, try to find ones Kitty might've been in where she might've been bullied the most."

Sharon and Bruce still didn't look like they liked the idea of Steve and Bucky only having Maria between them, but they were going along with it. "K through second are on the first floor of the west wing," Sharon said. "After that, we should probably investigate the girls wing of the dorms, down on the first floor."

"Let's hit the dorms first," Steve said, once again acting like he was taking over the mission and that made the Soldier rankle inside Bucky's brain.

Easy, Soldier. Maria's going to agree with him, you know that. He's not saying anything that she wouldn't. Just listen to her. He's not mission-head. Relax.

The Soldier stood down a bit.

"Good idea," Maria said, confirming Bucky's thought that she'd agree. "We'll investigate the dorms, it's closer to where you two are going to catch up to."

See? It was a smart idea, and Maria issued the final command on it. Relax.

"We'll meet up with you at the dorms then," Bruce said.

They split up.


	17. Praying For An End

"So what exactly are we looking for?" Steve asked, following just off to Bucky's left side. Bucky, despite the distant feeling of annoyance at having to babysit Steve while he worked, felt more comfortable with him on that side than if he'd been on the other. That put Bucky on Steve's right and that felt natural.

Maria had taken up the other side as they slowly traveled down the first floor of the girls' dorm "Electromagnetic spikes," she answered. "If I understand right, unusual EMF activity can indicate a ghost."

Bucky frowned, watching the voltmeter on the detector. "That depends," he said. "The whole EMF equals ghost thing is kinda shitty science, but we don't have much in our arsenal to work with. There's nothing that has been shown that EMF anomalies are caused by ghosts. At least not at a rate better than chance. Some anomalies we can't explain easily, and those are the ones we're looking for. But..." He stopped and held up his left arm, then waved the detector by it. The needle spiked. "Electronics put off fields, too. My arm alone could confuse this thing."

"Then maybe one of us should be carrying that," Steve said.

Smart idea, Steve. The scientist in Bucky wanted to be as close to the detector as possible, but Steve made a point. He shrugged. "You want it?" He held it out to Steve.

"I just have to wave it around, right?" Steve asked, taking the detector.

"Not quickly, but yeah." Bucky waited until Steve had taken then lead, then looked at Maria and motioned with his hand for her to take his side. He didn't like that the change in formation had put him on Steve's left.

It didn't take more than that for Maria to get the message, switching places with Bucky. Despite the fragile state of their friendship, the instinct to cover Steve's 'weak' side was an old enough programming that even the Soldier's anger at Steve couldn't override it. He shut up and left Bucky alone.

Good. Don't need that headache right now.

"What do we do if we find something?" Steve asked.

Good question. He thought back to those dumb shows he'd only watched a few times. "Maria could take video or pictures of the area that set off the detector," he said. "There's reports of people taking pictures and then later seeing something odd in them that wasn't there when the picture was taken. I don't know how well that'd work with a smart phone, but I got nothing better to suggest."

Steve stopped and looked back at Maria. "Do you have your phone on you?"

She nodded, pulling it out of her pocket. "It's a decent clock and not all of us have the memory and art skills to paint our memories instead of taking pictures."

"It has enough memory left for this, right?"

Maria raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what you think I'd fill up my camera with, but yes, there is. It's a custom piece from Tony for my work. I have plenty of memory for this."

Before they could get moving again, Sharon hurried up behind them. "Recorder and picture's set up." She glanced at Maria. "Do we need my camera too, for whatever we're doing?"

"It would help, I think," Maria said. "A video on both sides of the hall. We're not sure what we're dealing with, but cameras sometimes pick up on things, at least according to Bucky."

"Which is according to shows that use poor science," Bucky said. "But I'm not sure what else to do, besides say we should've done this during the day."

Sharon got out her phone from her pocket. "Why?"

"Because I have a feeling a lot of the anomalies we pick up, if we pick up any at all, are more easily explained as the Earth's magnetic field interacting with the solar winds. The magnetic field on the dark side of the planet is more likely to cause odd happenings than on the day side. But it's a bit late for that, so we'll just keep video on the place and see if anything the detector picks up is something to worry about, or something to be dismissed."

"That's not exactly filling us with confidence in this, Bucky," Steve said, starting down the hall again.

"I know," Bucky said as he and the others followed. "But I don't know what else we can do. Bruce and I are shooting from the hip."

"We'll try this," Maria said, holding her phone up towards the rooms as they passed down the hall. "If it doesn't work, we'll see what else might be available to us."

"So another trip to town for me," Sharon said, videoing the blank wall on the other side. "And why am I keeping an eye on a blank wall?"

"Wires," Bucky said. "If our ghost lives in them, you might pick up something." He looked back at Sharon. He had nothing to do anymore, now that Steve had the detector up front, and Sharon was actually doing something related to their search. "Sharon, switch with me. I'll pull up the rear."

"Any reason why?" she asked. "We're not expecting to be attacked by anything from behind, are we?" She switched places with him anyway.

"Maybe a cat," Bucky answered. "But back there isn't a good angle to get proper video from. I'd be in the way. Puts my arm farther from the detector, too. It was setting the damn thing off."

Maria kept her phone up, taking video as they passed by the dorm rooms, nearing the end of the hall. "If Kitty is hostile, does that put your arm in danger of getting shut down?"

Not a pleasant thought. "Maybe," he said. "I don't know. If we find out she's hostile, I'll get the hell out and contact Tony. But we don't know if Kitty's a threat or not." He glanced behind him for signs of Bruce or one of the cats. "Steve, anything up there?"

"Nothing," Steve said, sounding frustrated as they hit the end of the hall. "The dorms were a waste of time."

"Better to waste our time than to not bother and find out we missed something," Maria said. "Let's go back the other way, meet up with Bruce. Bucky, will you take the lead, please? There shouldn't be anything popping out at us from behind now, and you know how to handle the cats better than any of us if one decides we're snooping where they don't want us to."

"What am I, the cat whisperer?" He did as he was told, though, turning to take the lead. It felt nice to not be in charge beyond being the science explaining guy, though.

They met up with Bruce at the end of the hallway. "Camera's set up," he said. "Anything down that hall?"

"Not a damn thing," Bucky said. "We don't know if the girls caught anything on video, but the only thing that the detector picked up on was my arm before I passed it to Steve."

Bruce frowned, tapping the frame of his glasses on one hand. "We could check the classrooms for the elementary children, but if the dorms where she would've lived revealed nothing, I'm not sure we'd pick up anything in the classrooms."

"As I said to the others, it may be a waste of time," Maria said, "but better safe than sorry. We'll check the classrooms next, and if we get nothing, we'll retire for the night and let the camera and the recorder do the work. We'll check over all our video and audio footage tomorrow in the morning."

The classrooms proved as fruitless as the dorm hall had been. They'd even taken the extra time to hit both classroom wings, and both floors in each, and nothing. Not one damn thing. Everyone was cranky and frustrated with the lack of results. With no results to work with, they decided to just call it a night. Bucky returned to the work room to put away the detector while the others took care of dinner's dishes, now that they would be licked clean.

Bucky stayed a few minutes extra in the work room. Nobody in the kitchen would notice how long it was taking him, they'd be busy with cleaning. He needed a minute to think, now that he was away from a mission and entering a rest period. Now that things would go back from the old normal to the new normal with Steve. Now that Bucky would be retiring for the night to Maria's room, not because he wanted to, but because he didn't share a room with Steve anymore.

He didn't like this new normal. But he couldn't see a way around it, not yet. Steve still needed time to separate the Soldier from Hydra. And the Soldier needed to relearn to trust Steve. So did Bucky, for that matter. There was more to those thoughts, Bucky could feel it, but nothing wanted to take shape into something comprehensible, so after taking a few minutes to just breathe and brace himself, he headed back down to the cafeteria to meet up with Maria.

Maria was in the kitchen, along with the others. They must've decided that a group effort would make cleaning go faster and everyone could go off their separate ways.

Something in his body language when he entered must've signaled the return to the new normal, because Steve picked up on the change immediately and abruptly refused to look at Bucky. The tension in the air suddenly felt thicker as the others found themselves between two unstable men on unsteady ground with each other.

That was probably the reason they might've had for wanting everyone to go their separate ways as quickly as possible.

Before Bucky could open his mouth to offer help, Steve folded a towel and placed it on the counter. "Kitchen's done," he said, then brushed by Bucky, out the door, and out of the cafeteria.

"Steve?" Sharon set down the box of dishwasher soap tabs in her hand and hurried after him, only pausing to look at Bucky helplessly. He wished he could offer her that help, but now that the mission was over, the problems between Steve and himself couldn't stay buried. There was nothing to stand on that coffin and keep it nailed down.

Bucky rubbed his forehead. "What exactly did I do this time?" Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it wasn't anything on his part.

"Circumstance," Bruce said. "We all know that the team cooperation is over for the moment."

"It's also bedtime," Maria said. "Which means he's going to bed alone. It was just a mutual awareness on everyone's part that the problems remain."

He wondered what wasn't being said about those problems. Maybe nothing. Maybe something. Maria wasn't being personal with that statement, merely observational, which meant she probably had something else to add that he wouldn't hear until they were back in her room.

Bucky decided to sidestep that thought for the moment. "Speaking of bedtime, is the kitchen done so we can go, or is there anything I can help with?"

Maria grabbed the box of dishwasher tabs that Sharon had left and put it back in its place in the cupboard closest to the dishwasher. "No, we're done. Four people made short work." She turned and put a hand on Bruce's arm. "Make that tea you mentioned, take it up to your room. You need the relaxation."

Bruce gave her a very mild expression of agreement. "Relaxing probably would be a good idea. I'll see you two in the morning."

With a good night from both of them, Bucky and Maria left Bruce in the kitchen and headed for the dorms. Bucky hoped- if he were a believer, he'd be praying -that Steve had gone straight to bed and they wouldn't cross paths. Bucky wasn't interested in more of the new reality that day. Sleeping in Maria's room was going to be enough as it was.

Fortunately, Steve's door was shut tight when Bucky and Maria got to the dorms. Bucky paused to look at it. Steve usually left his door cracked when he wasn't in there. Good. No potential for arguments or hurt feelings.

That didn't stop the urge to go in and at least check on Steve before going to Maria's dorm.

Bucky let Maria have the bathroom first, changing while she did her pre-bed routine. He sat down on the bed to wait his turn for the sink to brush his teeth and stared off at the door. Steve was probably doing the same as Maria, getting ready for bed. Bucky wondered what was going through Steve's head. He had to feel bad for the lie, Bucky knew that much. Knew Steve well enough.

But then there was where Hydra had gotten in. There was his inability to separate the Soldier from Hydra and trust Bucky to stay under control.

That was okay, Bucky wasn't entirely trusting himself to stay under control. Maria's role in the one mission he'd gone on with her was under his authority. The only controller the Soldier had ever acknowledged since detoxing and deciding to take the chance of going to Steve was Steve himself. And that was old programming- Steve had always been the one in charge. Captain America was the guy in charge.

Maria Hill was... unknown. A partner, but not a leader. Not a controller.

Bucky hated that word. That was the Soldier's word, the only way the Soldier could understand deferring to a mission leader. That word probably caused more problems in that little fight in the training room than almost anything else said or done.

But it stayed stuck in his brain.

He grabbed the envelope with the Winter Soldier Project files off his nightstand and set it down on the bed in front of him. He didn't open it, just stared at it, not sure what to do with it. Maybe there was something in there that he'd missed in all the times he'd opened that folder, something that would tell him how to get rid of the Soldier, or at least remove certain words and needs from him, make him something more palatable for Steve to deal with.

The absence of the sound of running water in the bathroom alerted him to the fact that Maria was done, and he pushed the envelope aside.

"Your turn," Maria said, stepping back into the room. She paused, looking at the envelope. "Did you need a minute?"

He shook his head. "No." He waved at the envelope rather vaguely. "If you were curious, though, there you go."

Maria walked to the bed with slow and hesitant steps. "You're sure about that?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Bucky said, getting up and going around the bed to get to the bathroom.

Maria was sitting on the bed, holding the closed envelope on her lap when he returned. She looked over at him. "I haven't looked," she said. She turned her gaze down to the envelope. "I was waiting for you."

He sat down on his side of the bed. "Scared of it?"

"A bit." She reached over with one hand and took his. "I know these files are personal to you. Are you sure about letting me see them?"

He gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm sure. Maybe you can see something in them that Steve sees that I can't."

She nodded once, studying the envelope, before taking her hand back and carefully unlooping the thread that held the envelope shut. She pulled out the folder inside. She treated it like it was made of fine glass as she opened to the first page. She unclipped the picture of him in uniform and looked at it with a faint smile. "That's a good look for you. You have that smile still." She looked at him. "I like your longer hair better, though." She squinted. "It needs cutting, though."

Bucky reached behind him and pulled down on his hair, grimacing when he realized it hit between his shoulder blades. "Yeah, I know. It's starting to get ridiculous."

"Maybe Sharon can cut it?"

"Maybe."

"We'll ask her tomorrow," Maria said, going back to the folder. She tucked the military personnel photo back under its clip and looked at the larger picture behind it. She ran her fingertips over the frozen image. "That was the only time you really slept, isn't it?"

"Only time I slept alone," he said, not having to ask how she guessed. He'd been a weapon, with missions to focus on, and she knew how focused on a mission he could get even now, free of Hydra's brainwashing.

She looked over at him. "That's why you and Steve would sleep on your couches at the Tower sometimes."

Bucky nodded, a slight movement. "Yeah. That's why he dragged my bed into his bedroom back in DC, too. I couldn't sleep alone. Sleeping alone meant I was in the cryo chamber. Too cold, too silent. Loss of time. I don't know which scared me more, the chair or the chamber."

Maria slowly looked back at the folder. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this," she said in a hushed tone. "I've never had a problem looking at an ugly report before, but... but this is you. Someone I love. I'm not sure I can get through this without wanting to hit something."

"We can put it away."

At first, she didn't answer, fingers hovering just over the picture. Finally, she shook her head. "No, I need to read this. I want to help you and Steve, I have to have all the information I can get at my disposal. He saw something in here that he hadn't before Hydra's drug." She looked at him. "You've been over it so many times, you might be missing something. I'm coming to this information fresh. Maybe I'll see what he did."

"You'll probably still want to hit something," he warned with a bit of a wry smile.

She took in a deep breath. "I'll hit some punching bags in the training room tomorrow."

"Mm. Would you rather wait to do this until tomorrow, then? Rather than sleeping on that?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm okay." She picked up the first page of the report, reading over the words, her eyes sometimes pausing to study words, like she wasn't quite fluent in the language the report was written in.

"Need help translating?"

"No."

Seconds passed, and a lump in Bucky's stomach formed with each page she read through. The first few pages were fairly harmless, just the basic information on the 'test subject' and the designs of the experiment itself. It could've passed for a paper in a peer reviewed journal, those pages.

She hadn't gotten to the real stuff, and the closer she got to that, the bigger the bowling ball in his stomach. She knew about the Soldier, knew some of his habits, knew some of the leftover programming in his brain that may or may not ever go away. But she'd never seen the transition between just Bucky to the Soldier to understand where those habits came from.

She lifted two pictures from the folder, looking between them. "They took part of your arm."

He leaned over, having tuned out where she was in the file so he could focus on her reactions. The picture in her left hand, closest to him, was a picture of his arm stump in a torn and messy state; the second picture showed a cleaner cut. "Yeah. The rock that tore off my arm didn't do a good job of making it easy for them to connect the wires in the mechanical arm to my flesh nerves."

Maria looked back down at the pages that were still on the bed. "It says they used only a mild sedative." Her eyes showed a warring of horror, disbelief, and raw anger when she looked back up at him. "You were awake for this?"

Christ, how to answer that without sending her off the edge into a seething rage fit or a crying jag. Deep breath. Think. Remember. "No. Between the sedative and the shock of the injury, I wasn't really aware. I-" Hesitation. Continuing meant risking the very reactions he didn't want, but he wanted to be truthful with her. Give her more than just what the papers were giving. A dirty little secret he'd never even told Steve. Maybe that would help her efforts to play peacemaker. "I have a vague memory of hearing the bone saw, and seeing it, but I was pretty far gone. I don't remember any pain."

That didn't seem to pacify her much, as she swallowed tightly, then set the pictures down. She flipped pages. Pages and pages of notes, all in fading script, line after neat line of chemicals and experimental steps and reports on successes and failures.

He watched over her shoulder, occasionally glancing at her to watch her lips move as she read, her eyes darting faster across the page the more she silently spoke the words she was reading. There were several times she stopped, closing her eyes with her expression on the verge of crumbling, followed by a series of shallow breaths that eased into deeper ones before she'd continue.

She finally had to stop at the first report of the effects of the mindwipe chair. "I can't do this," she whispered, closing the file. "Not all at once. I don't know what Steve's seeing, but it's not what I'm seeing."

Bucky slid the folder over to himself and put it back in the envelope before Maria changed her mind. She was likely to have nightmares now as it was, he wasn't going to add to them by letting her change her mind and push herself more. "They're not an easy read," he said quietly. "I don't know how Steve even got through them. If he ever did."

After setting the envelope back down on his nightstand, he turned back to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She looked like she might either cry or throw up or both. She had a hand over her mouth and her eyes shut tightly. She didn't protest when he pulled her into a hug.

"Easy," he said, rubbing her far arm and petting her hair with his metal hand. "I'm here now, aren't I? I wouldn't be without this. I'd be dead without the Soldier."

She sniffed, pulling away and rubbing her eyes. "I don't know how Steve doesn't see that," she said. "I'll talk to him. Give me a chance to get through the rest of that, I'll talk to him. He might not even have read it all either."

Bucky never liked seeing Maria cry- she rarely did, unless her mother came into the conversation somehow -but the tears made her eyes shine a brilliant blue, open and vulnerable and trusting in him to be safe company for those tears. He rubbed his thumb under one of her eyes, wiping away the wetness that she hadn't succeeded in drying herself.

"It can wait," he said. "Don't push yourself. I can't even read that in more than small bits. I've done it several times, but I've had that longer, and I use it sometimes to remember on purpose."

"Why?"

He dropped his hand into his lap, looking off at the door as he tried to piece the answer to that into words. "Because I don't always understand some of my own habits, where they came from. Sometimes I forget and have to remind myself. Knowing there's a source for them makes me a little less weird. You've noticed, I have a lot of stray conditioning quirks, and I know a lot of them I can attribute to Hydra, but I don't know necessarily what it is they did to cause them. Some of them aren't explained by what's in there. Some of them I taught myself to survive."

"Like not thinking in words."

He snorted. "Yeah, there's that one. That was the Soldier's doing. What little was left of me hiding back in my own brain wanted to mouth off too much. Being the Soldier wasn't fun, but it's a good way to stay alive. Lots of survival skills I've hung onto that the Soldier learned from Hydra."

"Have you told Steve that?" she asked, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her arms on them. "In words like that?"

She asked a good question. He blew out a slow breath. "No," he admitted. "Usually by the time I can get him to listen to me about the Soldier, we're both too riled up from everything else, and I just lose my damn mind. Talking's hard enough when I'm calm, trying to explain something like the Soldier and how I'm him and I only speak of him as a second person because it's the least confusing for me is impossible when I'm angry."

Maria rested her cheek on her arms, turning her head to face him as she did. "It's easier to talk about the Soldier like a separate presence in general. You act differently when you're inside his head."

"That differently?"

She looked off to the side, quietly thinking. "You lose all your sense of fun and wit. You're just focused on the mission. Everything's about it." Then she smiled. "But your mission always boils down to protecting someone you love in the best way you can. He's just a way to focus in a situation that your normal way of thinking is distracting. I recognize that. I know Bruce does. Sharon probably does, too."

"Steve doesn't." He clenched his teeth. He hadn't meant to sound that bitter.

"He's never had reason to suspect that your focus came from the Soldier," Maria pointed out. "You never told him."

"I didn't think I had to," Bucky said, somewhere between a sulk and a growl. "He knew I had a lot of leftover hang ups that Hydra stuck in there, I don't see how it's a hard leap to get that at least part of the Soldier's still in here."

"I'll try to talk to him," she said. Then she patted his arm. "Come on. Sleep. We have some work to do tomorrow with all that audio/video recording."

Ah, the mission named Code Kitty. Right, rest period. "All right," he said, scooting back to pull the covers down from under his ass. She followed suit, settling down against him, head tilted slightly against his shoulder. He draped his metal arm across her waist. A kiss goodnight later, and they both closed their eyes to drop off to sleep.

Bucky noticed when he started to dream. The Soldier did not. The Soldier only knew to return to base, to walk through the pharmaceuticals building. Behind him, the building decayed and people who once worked there disappeared. Over his shoulder, the words 'father why have you forsaken us?' scribbled themselves in red spray paint.

He went down the stairs. Bucky wondered when the Soldier would wake up.

Test rooms and training halls. Never was the Soldier in any of them. The halls slowly wilted and filled with cobwebs, noises and sounds silencing as if they'd never been.

The labs were cold. They always were. The noise of saws and electricity and screams met him; then, as if the place emptied behind him, they ceased.

At the end of the hall was the final lab. There was no sign of his own ghost, the images of scientists that he recognized fading away like he was walking past their time and the space they occupied.

The cryo unit remained operational. There was someone in there.

He wondered who the replacement was. Maybe that's why he was the ghost. He was no longer needed.

His footsteps echoed hollowly against the chilly cement floor, boots leaving thumps too loud in the silence, as he approached the cryo unit.

There was someone inside. A face he recognized. His new replacement. The reason he was a weapon that was being abandoned. The reason he had to be destroyed.

With nothing he could do or say, he turned and walked away, leaving Steve Rogers in the cold.


	18. Can You Really See Through Me Now?

Peppermint tea might've been better for soothing Bucky's knotted up stomach, but hot cocoa tasted better, and he was more interested in mental comfort than physical. His stomach could just deal.

He'd left the lights off in the cafeteria when he came in, the gleam of the kitchen light through the serving window the only thing illuminating the room. Around him, silence hung heavy, barely cut by the irregular tapping his of his metal index finger on his warm mug. He took a drink before it got too cold, hoping it'd thaw out his insides a bit.

The Soldier didn't want to go. And quite frankly, Bucky wasn't sure he was willing to let him go. But Hydra's ghost hung as surely over his head as Steve's, like an executioner's axe. Bucky just wasn't sure how to get around it, and his unsettling nightmare didn't tell him anything helpful.

Maybe the images would stop bouncing around his head and form words he could give to Steve. Maybe whatever came out of his head, if it was anything worth thinking about, would stop the fighting, would stop the lies and the hate and let things go back to the way they were. Make them partners again.

Bucky took another sip of his cocoa, the cup making a thump too loud in the silence of the cafeteria when he set it back down.

Just off to his side and in front of him sat the table with Kitty's picture, the table pressed against the wall and the recorder propped up in front of the picture. It was a good picture; Steve was getting good with those charcoals, and the likeness of the little girl was strong. Bucky hoped that Kitty wouldn't be insulted if there were any flaws. Steve didn't tend to make those, but lately, Steve was doing a lot of things he'd never tended to do.

He stared at the recorder, straining his hearing as if he might hear what that thing picked up- if anything -without its help.

Nothing.

No, wait, there were footsteps down the hall. Coming closer to the cafeteria.

His first thought was Maria, checking on him, but the footsteps were too heavy for her. And neither Sharon nor Bruce were big enough to make those footsteps. Which left Steve.

Sigh.

Bucky made a point of staring at his cocoa as one of the light double doors into the cafeteria swung open softly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve in the doorway, wearing his pajamas- normal black sweatpants that had to be hot for the weather, and a dark blue t-shirt with the image of his shield splayed proudly across the front. A piece of merchandise that Bucky had gotten him as a gag gift one Christmas. They had a game of giving each other at least one piece of merchandise every Christmas, just to amuse each other. This last Christmas they didn't, but there'd been other times they'd gifted each other silly things, sometimes just for no reason at all.

Jesus Christ, they really were an old married couple. Facing divorce if things didn't change quickly, but maybe their respective girlfriends actually should be worried about competition. They were a ridiculous pair.

One that used to work.

"Buck?"

Too close. Too familiar. Bucky wanted to tell him that he didn't have rights to that name anymore, but for the moment, he just felt too run down to really will that temptation past an idle thought. That was genuine concern, that was something in Steve's tone that held none of the animosity that'd leeched into both of them like a poison.

That was his partner. And Bucky missed his partner enough that he wanted to cry.

He hid that behind another swallow of his drink.

"What do you want, Steve?" he asked, setting down the cup. He didn't have the energy for hostility. He sounded as tired as he felt.

He needed more sleep. Uninterrupted sleep, but whatever the Soldier was trying to tell him, whatever that part of his brain was thinking and trying to force out of the unconscious part of his mind, wasn't likely to stop just because Bucky went back to bed. Sleep wasn't happening until he had settled his thoughts.

It occurred to him that he could've just taken his Ativan, that might've worked.

But he hadn't, and there he was, in the cafeteria with a cooling cup of cocoa and Steve in the doorway, saying his name like a partner there to chase away the darkness.

"Maria said you got up and left," Steve said, not moving closer, waiting for an invitation.

Bucky made a rude noise. "So she told you to come fix things? She told me she'd try to play liaison, not send me into the wolf's den."

Steve finally decided to enter the room, invitation or not, the swinging door shutting silently behind him. "Maybe she thought that she wasn't the best one to handle whatever's in your head," he said. "Is it okay if I sit down?"

Bucky waved idly at the table. "I don't care." He went back to staring at his mug. Maybe the tea would've been better. His stomach was starting to twist tighter.

"You do, but thank you," Steve said, walking over. He paused at the seat next to Bucky's right, then apparently changed his mind and walked behind Bucky to get to the seat that put Bucky on his right side.

Bucky quickly downed the last of his drink to keep from choking. Steve remembered. Maybe that was all he remembered, but he remembered.

Nothing was said at first, Bucky regaining his composure and Steve waiting with more patience than he'd been displaying lately for Bucky to say whatever it was he was expecting him to.

Bucky slid the cup across the table, back and forth between his hands, listening to the sound of the friction between the table and the mug that never quite made up its mind if it wanted to roll or drag across the surface. It was a distracting sound, but not distracting enough to make Steve go away. Steve sat stubbornly in that seat, waiting.

If Steve wasn't going to go away, Bucky might as well try saying something.

"What did Maria tell you?"

"That you hadn't been sleeping well and left instead of just taking your medicine," Steve said. "We both knew that something was bothering you if you didn't just try to go back to sleep."

"So she sent you to talk to me. Because we've got a great track record with it."

Steve folded his arms on the table. "I know," he said. "But she didn't exactly send me. She just told me and said it's up to me what I do with it. I thought of leaving you alone, but I guess I couldn't bring myself to let you brood by yourself."

Bucky frowned. "I'm not brooding. I'm just thinking."

"If you could be in a high place outside instead of stuck in here, would you be?"

Bucky gave him no answer but to look at him, expression carefully controlled. He didn't want Steve to know he was right, because that would just lead to conversation that Bucky didn't want.

Steve picked up on his answer anyway. "Then you're brooding."

A frustrated and sharp sigh accompanied a growl in his throat. "What do you want, Steve?"

"To ask what's bothering you." He then added quickly "besides me."

"It's always you," Bucky snapped, then dropped his fist on the table. "I don't want to talk about this with someone I don't trust," he said, then looked at Steve. "And you haven't given me reason to think I can anymore."

Steve flinched, his whole body wilting. "I know," he said. "Neither of us really have. That sketchbook was hidden."

"So were the Winter Soldier files. So who gets to explain first?"

"You," Steve said, and Bucky came very close to getting angry before Steve saved his own ass by explaining "because my answer to those sketches relate to the files."

"Fucking figures," Bucky muttered without any real heat. He looked at his empty mug. "I think you know why. I wanted to see where you were with remembering because you never told me or showed me. And they weren't exactly well-hidden. There was an empty one in there too." He stood. "And you can 'brood' on your own answer while I get some tea."

"I thought you didn't like tea," Steve said, watching him.

Bucky got halfway to the kitchen before he stopped and actually answered that question. "Bruce says peppermint's easy on the stomach."

"You're sick?"

"Of this conversation," Bucky said, walking into the kitchen. He put the kettle on the stove and cleaned out his mug. Through the serving window, he saw that Steve hadn't moved, had simply rested his head on his folded arms.

Okay, so he wasn't going away. Then this was a conversation that had to happen. Bucky knew it had to eventually, but shaking off a nightmare hadn't been something he wanted to be in the middle of doing when that talk decided to happen.

But the more he let his mind wander over things while the water boiled, the more he started to understand where that nightmare had come from, and the more apparent it was that he needed this conversation now as much as Steve did.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked, voice slightly raised to be heard across the room.

Steve sat up and turned in his seat, draping one arm over the back of the chair. "Water? Please?"

Bucky nodded once in acknowledgement, then went about getting Steve's water and preparing his now clean mug for the tea.

He went back out to the table a few minutes later, a glass of ice water in one hand and his tea in the other. He set Steve's water down next to him.

Steve mumbled a thanks and took a drink. He looked like he wished it was something stronger than water that he was drinking. "My turn, then."

"Your turn, and it'd better be good," Bucky said. "I hid those files because I knew there was nothing in there that'd help you. You needed time to remember first."

Steve's brows knitted downward a bit, staring at his glass. "I thought the opposite. You'd said that they used that drug on you, I thought maybe learning about what it was might help me figure out how to get my memories back quicker. I knew they gave you more doses and used that chair, but... I just thought maybe there'd be something about the drug itself in there that might help."

Bucky looked back down at his mug, swallowing tightly and wishing that the tea would steep faster. "And instead you found Hydra's version of the Soldier and never bothered to listen to me when I said it wasn't the same anymore."

"If it's not the same, why is he still there?" Steve asked, and there was a strain under his voice, like he was trying to not let things blow up into another pointless screaming match.

Bucky wasn't any more interested in another fight than Steve obviously was, but this question was getting old. "You know, when I or the others act like the Soldier's a different person, it's not because he is. It's just an easier way to tell the difference between how I think and act off mission and on mission. The Soldier's the weapon, he's the one that goes out and follows orders. He's the one that fights. I'm the one that comes back after missions and makes sure you're all right and returns things to normal. But it's still me, with or without the mask."

He tested his tea. Nope, still needed steeping. "It's no different than saying things were before or after I died, when I never died when I fell off that train. It's just a marker. That's all."

Steve stayed quiet, and Bucky hoped he was actually absorbing all of that instead of trying to find ways to shut it down. "Then why was it Hydra's Soldier I saw in that lab?" Steve finally asked.

"It wasn't," Bucky said. "That was me. That was me seeing Hydra trying to make you into their next Winter Soldier. I panicked. So the Soldier did exactly what I wanted to do- made sure they couldn't do that."

There it was. That was the thought the dream had stirred up in the back of his mind. He sighed, hesitant to give it voice.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Damnit, why did Steve always have to be right?

Bucky sat, silent, watching his tea steep, looking for the right words. "There's two parts of me, Bucky and the Soldier. Bucky's supposed to make things okay. But the Soldier... that part of me, I'm afraid of being replaced."

He looked over at Steve. "You know what you do with a broken weapon? You throw it away. Even though I knew damn well that Hydra was using me, that there was something in the back of my head that was important that they were hiding from me, I refused to stop being useful. Because an abandoned weapon is a dead weapon. The Soldier taught me a lot of survival skills."

Then he frowned, looking back at his tea. "But when you try to make me just Hydra's Soldier again, you're throwing him away. And Hydra was set to replace him with you anyway. So what place does he have here? How is he supposed to protect you when you want him gone?"

Bucky shook his head, shoving aside the half-steeped mug of tea. "I know none of that makes sense, I'm not good with words. I just spit shit out until something sticks. But you've taken away the Soldier's place, the one and only thing he could still do. And I can't get rid of him, Steve. I don't know what you expected, that I'd be able to be completely normal after that project, but you should know better."

Steve took in a deep breath, then scrubbed his thumb and index finger over his eyes. "I can only see the lab, that's all my memories give me of him. Every night. And gets worse every night. What I saw, what I remember, that wasn't you, that's not the Bucky I remember, and not just from before the war. I don't remember ever seeing that in recent times, and I'm remembering a lot more than I've been letting on."

"I know you have," Bucky said. "But what you saw in that lab was the Soldier being something he almost never was. He was afraid, Steve. He knew what those drugs did, he knew what those doctors did, I remember every goddamn thing they did and even if the Soldier and I _were_ different people, you genuinely don't think that the Soldier would ever want there to be another him? Especially when the one Hydra chose for their new Winter Soldier was the only person that cared enough to push through their brainwashing? The only person to give him a chance to be a person again?"

Bucky's throat felt tight as his eyes got wet from hurt and anger and frustration and the fear that he wasn't being heard or understood. "I was _scared,_ Steve." He looked at his tea. There were more words desperate to get out, words he actually had, but he wasn't sure if he could get them to actually push past his throat.

He was scared that Steve was seeing so much of Hydra that Bucky wasn't worth keeping around anymore. That was the core of his own anger every time the fights started. Something he should've been saying before things got bad, before yelling took over.

Those were words he should've said weeks ago. Or even a few years ago. He should've said it back in DC. But he'd always been too afraid to.

Steve sighed, sitting back. "I know you've been trying to tell me this," he said, taking Bucky's mind away from that thought. "And I know it's because I'm scared of what happened to me that the nightmares keep showing him. But I've never been afraid like this. Not the way that drug did. I don't know what all was in that drug, but it won't go away."

Bucky wasn't the only one with that thought, it sounded like. Bucky almost said something, almost walked over whatever Steve was starting to say next to put that thought out, to put it in the light to be seen and banished.

But he let Steve finish instead.

"And one of the first things I remembered was the Soldier and the blood," Steve continued, unaware of how easy it'd be to put all this into that simple phrase. 'I'm afraid there's too much Hydra to be saved.' It'd be so easy to clear everything up with that phrase.

But it was one that neither would say, not yet. So Bucky left it.

"And then I read those files," Steve was saying, still talking, from somewhere far away. "And I saw what made you into that. It hurt, Bucky. It killed me that someone would do that to you, that you'd do these things because of them. No, I didn't want you to have done what you did in that lab. That's not an acceptable cost to me."

"It is to me, and that's not your choice to make," Bucky said softly, wondering, maybe hoping that the conversation would turn to where he could put out the fear that he understood now they both had. "You don't have to like the choices I make to protect you, but you don't get to make them for me." He slowly reached out and pulled his mug back to him, giving it a test taste. Yup, that was peppermint.

Now it was Steve's turn to answer, and Bucky wasn't gonna let him get away with silence or more lies this time. "Why am I not in that sketchbook?"

Please say the words, Steve. They won't come out.

The ice in Steve's glass clinked, the slow melt pushing them into different positions. "Because I know you're right," he finally said."Because I know the Soldier's in there, and I don't want him to be. You're right, I don't have to like the choices you make. And I wasn't ready to accept that. Still not sure I am."

Steve took a page from Bucky's book and tapped his glass with his finger a couple times, then his brow furrowed. "You're not in there because I knew he would be too. I don't have clear memories of seeing him, but I felt like I always knew, from the minute we started freelancing, that he'd never go away. I just never counted on how much."

He looked towards the windows again. "I didn't want to accept that it was my fault. I knew it was. I feel there had to have been a better way to help you get out. And I feel like all I did was kept you in there."

Bucky wanted to answer that, wanted to hug Steve and tell him how wrong he was, how that idea of Steve's was exactly what Bucky needed, but he could tell Steve had more to say, so he kept quiet and let him speak.

He shouldn't. He should say it.

But the words died in his throat.

Steve took a drink, then set his glass down and looked at Bucky. His expression was far blander than the anger Bucky saw in his eyes. "The Soldier called me a controller. I don't control you, Bucky. You make your own choices, even the ones I don't like. I thought we were partners, and all this time, we've been going out on the job and you've been pulling him out and thinking of me as some sort of controller."

Bucky all but dropped his mug on the table and covered his face with his hands, all other thoughts gone. "Oh god, Steve, that- no, that word doesn't mean what you think it means. It's just Hydra's word that I'm used to when I go out in uniform. We're partners, but haven't you noticed- don't you remember -that you always made the final call on a strategy? I don't know how to function out there without someone saying 'we're doing this'."

Please don't see too much of Hydra to remember this.

"You honestly don't remember that? You don't know that while I come up with ideas sometimes, you're the one that says 'let's do it' and I follow along, even if I don't like the plan? That's what happened in Palestine. I tried to talk you out of that idea more than once, and every time you said we were going through with it, I just modified the idea to accommodate _your_ orders. You're a commanding officer, the person that says 'here's the mission.' That's all that means."

Then he dropped his hands and pointed one finger sternly at Steve. "And don't act that isn't exactly how it was with the Howling Commandos. You always had the final say. Just because it's a deeper programming in my brain now doesn't mean it's not the same."

Don't see too much of them to not remember. Someone say it, please.

Steve didn't seem to like that reminder, pushing Bucky's hand away and turning his head stare out the back window instead of meeting Bucky's gaze. "So who gave you the mission to take over here?"

"You did."

Steve whipped his head back around. "I did not."

The sharp sound of an electrical spark interrupted the words that were finally on the tip of Bucky's tongue, the words that needed saying the most, and they both jumped to their feet, looking in the direction of the noise.

A giant pulse of electricity crackled and blackened a trail in the wall behind it, crawled its way from the light sconce on one side of the dining room door to the other, sparks flying but never setting anything ablaze, down the wall, until it disappeared behind the picture of Kitty. A nanosecond passed before the picture and recorder went flying, the electric charge exploding out of the wall before disappearing.

They both ducked under the table for cover; lightning shot across the walls for a few seconds longer before all signs of the activity stopped, the only source of light once again coming from the kitchen behind them.

Neither spoke nor moved except to peek over the table, examining the walls and the lights and the floor around them carefully. The damage to the wall was already fixed, as if nothing had happened. They both decided it was safe to emerge from behind their makeshift blockade.

"I'm getting a little tired of this," Steve said, getting to his feet and walking with Bucky around the table to examine the damage. The picture Steve drew was burned out in the middle, but the rest of the paper was completely intact. "I know you think that this is your mission somehow, and fine, it is, whatever, but are you really sure we should stay here when she keeps doing things like this?" He waved the ruined picture pointedly.

Bucky spared it a glance as he walked farther across the room, rescuing the recorder that was in two pieces on the ground. "I'm tired of it too," he said, then crouched down and held up the recorder pieces for Steve to see. "But I don't think that was meant to be dangerous. She controls the wires, if she wanted to hurt us, she would've. I think this was just an eight year old child throwing a temper tantrum because the adults were talking over her." He stood, trying to fit the recorder's pieces back together. "I should've gone to the lounge, but I didn't think I'd get company. She must've been trying to say something and all we would've heard tomorrow was our bitching at each other."

Steve walked over to him, crumpling the ruined picture in his hands. "Think you can fix it?"

"Maybe," Bucky said. "I'll try in the morning. If I can, I'll erase tonight's play back so we have a fresh start and we can try again. Just no more going into where we have this and talking over her." He looked upwards. "Hear that, kid? I'm sorry. We won't do that again. But no more tricks like that."

There was no response; Bucky didn't expect one, but at least there was no more sign of her tantrum.

Bucky set the broken recorder back on the table. "We should go back to bed. Unless you had something else to say."

"Yeah." Steve didn't continue until Bucky looked back at him. "I'm sorry. For a lot of things."

Bucky couldn't help the way one corner of his lips quirked upwards a bit. "Yeah. Me too." He gave the recorder one more look. "But I'm going back to bed. Got a lot to think about, but I need sleep first, and Maria's gonna get worried."

"When're you going to come home?" Steve asked, barely above a whisper, a calm look on his face belying what his voice hinted at.

"I don't know," Bucky answered with as much honesty as he could. "Trust takes time to build back up. Tell me, if something attacked right now, would you trust your back to the Soldier? Because that's the part of me that'd be fighting next to you." He gave Steve a second to answer, and with none forthcoming, Bucky just shook his head. "You wouldn't. Not yet. So I'm still staying with Maria."

Steve's answer to that was to stare down at his feet. "I don't like sleeping alone," he said. "I thought I'd still be used to it from the Tower, and I'm really not."

"I know," Bucky said. "But it won't be forever. Hell, if we keep it up at this rate, it might accidentally be soon. But not yet."

"What about the couches?"

The couches. That hadn't occurred to Bucky, and hearing Steve request it shook up that big brother instinct again, and this time, he wasn't sure he could ignore it, or if ignoring it would even be a good idea. Maybe they couldn't handle the closeness of having to share a bed that claimed to be a queen bed but really wasn't for two broad shouldered super soldiers, but maybe the couches. A step in the right direction.

Maria was probably still awake, he could explain. She'd be okay on her own, she wasn't the one that need to have someone nearby to sleep.

"The couches," Bucky agreed. "But just tonight. Just for now. We'll figure out other stuff before we do this again. At that point, it might be okay for me to move back in."

"Fair enough," Steve said, sounding at once relieved and disappointed. "I've missed my partner."

Bucky gave him a faint smile that wanted to wobble. "I have too. But just tonight."

"Just tonight."

With that agreement, they made their way up to their respective rooms.

To Bucky's complete lack of surprise, Maria wasn't asleep, sitting up in bed with her lamp on her nightstand on, reading. She looked up at his entrance. "Was I right to send him down?"

Bucky shut the door behind him. "It was a dirty trick, but it might've worked. We're sleeping on the couches in the lounge tonight."

Maria smiled, setting down her book. "Are you planning on moving back in with him, then?"

Bucky shook his head, grabbing his pillow. "No, not yet. But he needs tonight."

"So do you."

Bucky paused and looked at her. "The fact that you understand me that well is frightening," he said.

She merely smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He leaned over and gave her a kiss. "I'll be here," he said, then got up and headed back out. He didn't see any signs that Steve had left or not. Well, if he changed his mind about the couches, Bucky could always come back up and tell Maria it was a bust and things would go back to that new normal that nobody liked. He headed down the stairs, down the hallway, and up to the lounge.

Steve wasn't there yet. He couldn't be far behind, could he? There was a sinking sensation in Bucky's stomach, and he very suddenly wanted to go back to the cafeteria and get that tea, or maybe just go back to Maria's dorm and go back to bed there. He could hose his brain down with enough Ativan to force him to sleep.

Bucky dropped his pillow on one end of one of the couches and sat down, his finger tapping on his thigh from nerves. Where was Steve? Was that whole stupid conversation of garbled nonsense just part of a dream and here he was, waiting for someone that was sound asleep in bed?

He was ready to get up and go back to Maria's dorm when Steve finally entered, two blankets bundled up under one arm, his other occupied with his pillow. He tossed his pillow on the other couch without a word, then separated the two blankets. The comforter from their room was in one hand, and he tossed it onto his couch. The other hand held a warm fleece blanket that Bucky recognized when Steve held it up for him.

"I know you get cold easy," Steve said. "If this one's not warm enough, we can switch." He handed the blanket over. "I remember Tony got it for you after Kiev."

Bucky stood and took the blanket from him, looking at it. It was warm fleece, dark blue with that too-familiar design of Steve's shield and Bucky's shoulder merged together in a round emblem. It was a warm blanket, Bucky had to admit that. But the design was Tony's subtle reminder to Bucky to rely on Steve and not shut him out. Steve probably hadn't picked up on that, had probably just seen another piece of merchandise that his smartass friend had given them.

Message received, Tony.

"Yeah," Bucky said, then draped it over his couch. "He thought he was being funny." No need to tell Steve anything different. "It'll be warm enough." The he pointed at Steve's couch. "Sleep."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yes, sir. Anything else, sir?"

"Yeah, shut up."

The couches weren't as close to each other in the lounge as the two in their apartment at the Tower were, but there was still the sound of another person, and a closeness that Steve had been lacking that Bucky was actually glad to give him, at least a little. Blankets were kicked around and pillows adjusted noisily until it sounded like they were both ready to sleep.

"Hey, Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

"If you still need to think of protecting us as a mission, I'll make sure nobody argues with you over it. I'll beat the others into submission if they get tired of your bossiness."

Bucky snorted. Oh Steve. It wasn't a subject Bucky had wanted brought up right before sleep, but that was such a wonderfully Steve thing to hear that it might just put him into a more peaceful sleep. And he suspected he heard an 'including myself' in that last part, and that was fantastic to hear. "Good. Because I'm going to be bossy. Now sleep, Steve."

"Night."

"Night."


	19. Start Again, I Heard Them Say

Without the drugs to keep his mind hazy, Bucky became aware very early of an uncomfortable and strange setting that he was sleeping in, and snapped awake in alarm.

A TV stared at him, turned off, with a series of cords sliding off behind it, visible between its stand and the entertainment center it rested on, leading to what looked like a Wii U machine.

The sounds of a second person in the room drew his attention to the left side of the room, where the person in question was a lump under the blankets on a second couch.

Steve.

Couches.

Right.

Steve seemed still asleep, so Bucky crept as silent as possible off the couch, grabbed his pillow and the flannel blanket Steve gave him the night before, and tiptoed out of the lounge and down the stairs.

There was a light on in the cafeteria as he slipped past it on his way to the dorms. He wasn't sure who was up, but he'd deal with them in a minute. He had to return his pillow and blanket to his room with Maria. The blanket had been in Steve's room, but Bucky decided to hold onto it as a token of goodwill between them. If things soured again, he'd give it back to Steve.

Maria woke up slightly when Bucky entered, lifting her head off the pillow a bit when he closed the door. She grabbed her phone off her nightstand and stared at it. "It's five thirty, Bucky, what're you already doing up?" She frowned, looking up at him. "Did the couches not work out?"

Bucky shook his head, depositing his pillow and blanket on the bed next to her. "I didn't have any Ativan last night after I got up. I woke up naturally." He frowned. "Either Sharon or Bruce were already in the cafeteria. Wonder what has them awake."

"Is Steve still asleep?"

"Last I saw." He grabbed his own phone, looking at the date. Hm. Thought so. "He'd better stay that way awhile longer, too. I have some baking to do."

Maria looked back her phone, then up at him in confusion. "What does your phone say that mine doesn't to make that make sense?"

He smiled. "Go back to sleep, Maria. I'll wish you a happy Fourth of July when you're up proper."

Maria's uncomprehending look was solid gold, but quickly faded into understanding. "It's Steve's birthday."

Bucky nodded. "It is. He's ninety eight."

Maria's smile was sleepy as she laid her head back down on the pillow. "Go bake whatever you're baking. I'll be along for breakfast at a sane hour." She set her phone back on her nightstand.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Get some sleep. I'll see you in a bit."

He stayed only long enough to get into proper clothes for the day, then headed down to the cafeteria.

It was Bruce that was up and in the cafeteria. No sign of Sharon, so Bucky could only assume that she was still in bed, like a rational person. Bruce, however, was sitting at their usual table with a cup of steeping tea and the broken recorder. He was staring at it like it might talk if he just waited.

Bruce looked up at Bucky's entrance. "I don't think Kitty wanted to talk to us."

Bucky walked over and took the broken recorder, looking at it, studying it with less frustrated eyes. He could fix it. "No, it's not that," he said. "Steve and I were talking in here last night when she blew it across the room. I think she wants to talk and threw a hissy fit that the adults were in here, talking over her."

Bruce busied himself very suddenly by playing with his teabag, bobbing it in the water. "You two were talking?" The wariness in his voice was palpable.

"Relax, it was a good talk," Bucky said. "First time some things got said and actually heard. Still not moving back in with him, but we slept on the couches in the lounge last night."

Bruce very visibly relaxed. "Oh, good, good." Then he looked at the recorder in Bucky's hands. "Can that be fixed?"

"Mm." Bucky tapped at it gingerly. "It can, but I think the recording from last night is probably gonna be lost, so we'll have to try again and just make sure none of us are dumb enough to come into the cafeteria overnight." He set it down on the table.

"What about putting it somewhere else?" Bruce asked, turning to keep an eye on Bucky as Bucky walked towards the kitchen.

Bucky looked back at him over his shoulder. "Should work. Find a place. I have baking to do."

"At five thirty in the morning?"

"It's Steve's birthday."

"Oh."

Bucky heard Bruce's chair scrape on the floor, then footsteps following him into the kitchen. "You're baking a birthday cake?"

Bucky shook his head, digging into the fridge. "Nope, cupcakes. He doesn't like regular cake."

"But they're the same thing."

"I know," Bucky said, setting his eggs and butter down. "If you wanna help, you can find those cupcake papers I had Sharon buy a week ago."

He judged how much milk he had; there was plenty for the cupcakes and frosting, but he didn't want to force Sharon out to buy more for dinner on the fucking Fourth of July. Ah well, if there wasn't enough, they'd find something that didn't require milk. There were a lot of things they could make.

"What temperature should the oven be at?" Bruce asked.

Bucky blinked. "Oh, uh, three fifty. Thanks, you didn't have to do that."

Bruce smiled, setting the oven to bake. "I know, but if I'm going to be in here, I can at least turn on the oven and get the baking pans ready." His tea mug was at the end of the counter. He motioned to the sink with one cupcake pan. In it was the mug that Bucky had abandoned at the table the night before. "I see you decided to raid my tea."

"Yeah," Bucky said, digging around the counter for his flour and sugar. "Hope you don't mind. My stomach wasn't the happiest last night."

The sounds of paper scratching against paper and then being tucked carefully into the baking pans was not all Bruce was gonna reply with, Bucky knew that, but he also knew that Bruce was considering his words very carefully.

"Your talk with Steve?"

"Didn't help, no," Bucky admitted, beating the butter and sugar together. "We didn't yell, no names were called, there was no violence. Just unpleasant subjects that made my stomach hate me." He motioned up at the cupboard. "Get me another mixing bowl, will you? I'll need it for the frosting."

"You're making frosting, too?" Bruce dug around in the cupboard. "I've always just used Betty Crocker."

Bucky made a particularly rude noise that he reserved for when he wanted to play the grumpy old man. "I'm older than her, I know this shit better than she ever could." He cracked an egg into the mix. "And to answer the question you didn't ask, yes, I said it was a good talk, yes, it was, but good doesn't mean pleasant. Just necessary."

"It ended with you two on the couches," Bruce said. "Couldn't have been all bad." Then he took a step away from the heating oven to grab his tea. "And you're making him cupcakes."

One egg was poised above the bowl, the second to get folded in, but Bucky didn't crack it yet, thinking. "I always do for his birthday," he said finally. "I'm not going to miss his birthday." He finally cracked the egg in and started folding it into the mix. "Bruce, you're not my therapist, you don't have to try to poke at me."

"I know," Bruce said, sipping his tea. "But you need someone to talk to."

"I already talked to Steve," Bucky said. "And before you say that's not enough, it is this time. I had some old issues as the Soldier that Palestine and Steve's attitude about the Soldier shook up and those are mine to deal with. But nothing between Steve and I is going to get better than it is now without him accepting the Soldier." He started sifting in the baking flour. "I can't get rid of him."

"I don't think any of us disagree," Bruce said, leaning on the counter and watching Bucky like he was trying to memorize the recipe simply through observation. "But what about your issues? Are they going to interfere with that?"

Bucky frowned, carefully measuring in milk by sight. "I have to think about it for awhile before I talk to anyone more than I have. I don't think Steve fully understood."

He wasn't even sure Steve fully understood his own problem that made things a problem in the first place. Steve had words, but fear kept words from forming properly. And he'd never been Hydra, not really. He'd never detoxed alone. He'd never lived in the streets with the fears that both needed to state.

So it wasn't likely Steve had understood.

Bucky gave Bruce a sideways glance with an exasperated smile on his face. "And yes, Bruce, you will probably be the one I talk to the most. For someone who insists he's not a psychiatrist, you like picking up the role for us."

Maybe he could get the words out for Bruce and Bruce could try to talk to Steve. Bruce wanted to be psychiatrist, Steve needed the help, too.

Maybe.

Bruce tried to hide a smile behind his cup, but it didn't quite work. "I'm a doctor, I fix people. You guys don't always need the kind of bandaids I can pull out of a box and stick on your stubbed toes."

"You're a good man, Bruce," he said, pushing aside the issue in his brain. With care, he poured the batter into the cups, pausing a couple times to make sure he had the right amount in each cup. Better not enough than overflowing, but really, that one is just gonna be a baby cupcake if that was all he put in there.

"I try," Bruce said, holding out his hand.

Bucky lowered the bowl, batter as evenly distributed as possible, and stared at the out held hand. "What?"

"Give me the bowl. I'll take care of clean up, you make the frosting."

His mouth opened to protest that he had plenty of time to make the frosting before the cupcakes were baked and cooled enough to frost, but he had a feeling he'd lose that one, so with a dramatic sigh, he handed over the bowl. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're funny when you're in a good mood," Bruce said, taking the bowl and heading over to the sink. "And you sound like you're in a good mood now."

"For being up at stupid o' clock, yes," Bucky admitted, turning to his new mixing bowl. He reached for more butter, then paused when something occurred to him. "Hey, Bruce, do we have food coloring?"

Bruce turned on the water, head tilted back in thought. "I think so. When you gave Sharon and I that list for food to restock on, she said 'oh, baking things, got it' and I think she grabbed some because it was in the baking aisle."

"That's a stupid reason to get some," he said, despite its convenience. "Where would it be?"

Bruce looked like a deer in headlights, slowly shaking his head. "I have no idea where she put it. You're asking me to think like her thinking like you, because she would've put it where it would seem logical for you."

What. No. What? "I love her dearly, but that woman has her moments of insanity." Bucky blew out a frustrated breath. "All right, time to scour the briney depths of the cupboards."

Bruce laughed. "You are definitely in a better mood than you have been. Whatever was said last night helped more than your stomach thought."

Bucky opened the nearest cupboard that had his spices , carefully pushing aside bottles and tins. "It was probably more the sleeping on the couch thing," he said. "I missed having him around."

While Bucky shoved aside a tin of cinnamon, Bruce turned off the water and joined him, the dirty bowl apparently forgotten. "I'd ask why you don't move back in with him, but you already said there's stuff to be done yet."

Bucky looked over his shoulder. "Yeah, but we'll get there." He turned back to the cupboard. "Okay, so, it's not with my spices. Where the hell, Sharon."

"Why are we looking for the food dye?" Bruce asked, already investigating another cupboard.

Bucky looked at him, not sure where else to look except the cupboard he checked, and the one Bruce was poking his head into now. "Because I've never given Steve a cupcake with colored frosting. He was colorblind before the war, so he wouldn't have been able to tell what color it was. I just went with white a couple years ago out of habit, and last year we kinda let it slide because that was when Peggy died. I want to give him colored frosting."

"Hm." Bruce looked back out of the cupboard. "Before we go further, we should probably make sure we'd even have the right color. I know she got the basic primaries. What's his favorite color? Since I assume that's the color you're going to use."

"Red."

Bruce turned back to the cupboard, then paused, looked back at Bucky. "And your favorite color is blue, if I recall."

"Yeah."

"And you usually gave him white frosted cupcakes?"

"Shut up and look for the food dye, Bruce."

Bruce didn't continue his line of smartassery, didn't have to, and simply went back to digging around the cupboard, moving aside bags of flour and sugar of varying types. "Oh, here it is. I have no idea why she'd put it with the big things it could get lost behind, but I don't always understand her." He set the red dye on the counter.

Bucky picked it up and looked at it. "Here's my next question. How red does this stuff make things? I'm making buttercream frosting, that's pretty white. This isn't gonna turn out pink, is it?"

"No idea," Bruce said. "Make the frosting, we'll put a tiny bit into a cereal bowl and experiment. That red, it ought to make things darker than pink with enough of it."

"Hopefully. We'll see, I guess."

Bruce made another cup of tea while Bucky worked on the frosting, which really didn't take that long at all. He considered looking for an electric mixer, but he'd eschewed it for the cupcake batter, he wasn't going to use it now. He didn't need that to make good frosting, damnit.

"All right, let's try this," he said after he was sure the frosting was the right consistency.

Bruce pulled out a cereal bowl and handed it over. "No whammy no whammy."

Bucky stared at him.

Bruce waved it off. "Old game show."

"I will never catch up on everything, will I?" Bucky spooned out a tiny bit of the frosting into the bowl and grabbed a teaspoon and the food dye.

"No, probably not," Bruce said. "By the time you catch up on old stuff, more new stuff has come out. Don't worry about it too much, it wasn't a hugely popular game show, I just happened to watch it as a kid a few times."

"Glad I'm not missing much," Bucky said, adding a few drops of dye to the frosting. He stirred it, watching it change color. "That's pink." The red dribble of dye had, indeed, turned an odd shade of pink after being mixed with the white frosting. "Damnit."

"Add a bit more," Bruce suggested. "It might get redder the more you add."

The pink had Bucky less than hopeful, but he tried it anyway. The pink slowly gave way to a sort of red, though not the deep shade that Steve really liked. That might take a lot more dye than he had, and maybe a more professional grade than what could be bought off a normal grocery store shelf.

He evaluated how much dye was left. Enough, he thought, but he was hesitant. "If this isn't enough, I'm going to be giving Steve pink cupcakes."

Bruce smothered a laugh. "Well, pink is just red that hasn't made it yet."

Bucky gave him a dirty look. "I don't want to give Steve pink cupcakes."

Bruce's answer was a shrug. "Well, you could frost just one with that bit of red frosting and that cupcake can be Steve's birthday cake, and the rest can just be white." He looked up at the cupboard. "Or you could add some blue after you've frosted a few and we'll have red, white, and blue. Or is that going to upset Steve too much?"

"He might get grumpy and complain, but he wouldn't be serious about it," Bucky said. Then his eyebrows drew downward. "Maybe not this year, though. Things are still shaky. He might not appreciate the joke."

Bruce patted his left shoulder. "I think you're both missing normalcy enough that he won't be upset. He might actually prefer it to the tiptoeing."

That was a big chance to take, and Bucky wasn't sure he wanted to take that chance. But Steve had asked for the couches, had actually asked Bucky to go back to sharing a dorm, so maybe.

After a moment of deliberation, he decided Bruce's idea was a good one. He set the bowl aside. "Okay, we'll do it that way. If Steve gets pissy, I'm pointing the finger at you."

Bruce smiled. "Blame I will gladly take. If this upsets Steve, he won't take it out on you if he knows it wasn't your idea."

"So we hope," Bucky said. He put a bit more frosting into the bowl with the red dye. "I'm going to make a bit extra with the red stuff. Steve has this thing where he really, _really_ likes this frosting. So he gets extra. Mind splitting the rest and getting that blue dye out?"

"Glad I'm being allowed to help in the kitchen," Bruce said, pulling out yet another bowl and the blue dye. "I'm usually told to go away by you better chefs."

Bucky frowned. "Cooking is a stress reliever for me, and Maria just wants to stay in practice, I think. But if you want a shot at it, I don't mind. You've eaten enough places, you might have something new for us."

Bruce snorted. "Some of that 'something new' I wouldn't feed to people I love. I'm not cruel."

That made Bucky snerk. "Just remember that nothing spicy for Sharon and otherwise don't tell us what's in it. Steve and I will eat most things, we've done some traveling into weird places with weird food too. Me more than him, I think. I still had to eat when I was out on missions, and I was just given local cuisine that had the nutrients I needed in an amount to keep up with my metabolism. And I never asked what was in it, I just ate it. Those were the orders, that was what was given to me, I knew they wouldn't poison me, not when I was still useful."

"There's the girls, though. They might ask questions."

Bucky looked back at him. "You know all you have to do is say 'just eat it first' to that, right? That's how my parents handled it, that's how Missus Rogers handled it. I know you're nobody's parent here, but that's the best way to deal with fussy eaters."

"I thought you weren't a fussy eater," Bruce asked, stirring the bowl with blue frosting. That was coming out much better than the red had wanted to.

Bucky set aside the bowl with the red-not-pink frosting and started rinsing the dishes that were no longer needed. "I wasn't, but I was curious, and some of my younger siblings were fussy. If they knew what they were eating before they tried it, they might not've given it a chance. There were a few things that Rebecca refused to eat ever again after finding out what was in them, even though she'd enjoyed it before. I was fine with it."

"You and Steve are like human vacuums," Bruce said in an amused tone, adding a bit more dye to his bowl of frosting.

Bucky shrugged, loading the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher. They'd get a proper cleaning once the cupcakes were done and frosted and the rest of the dishes could be thrown in there. "High metabolisms, non-fussy eaters. Steve's always been adventurous, and my excuse was that I understood that humans had evolved to eat about anything, so my system could probably handle whatever was put in front of me. Our ancestors did a lot of experimenting."

Bruce wiped the spoon he'd been using on the edge of the bowl to get off the excess frosting before handing it over. "I remember you were raised in an atheist family. Sounds like that led to a lot of science in the home."

Bucky took the spoon. "Yeah. Mom was a former Christian, became very apathetic about the whole issue sometime before she married Dad. Dad was an evolutionary biologist, he was very firm on making sure we learned proper science instead of hearing creationism as a plausible alternative to how life changed over the years. So I learned a lot about human evolution and how that impacted what was safe for me to eat and what wasn't. Humans aren't quite as capable of handling everything in sight like our ancestors, but we're an omnivorous species evolved from animals that would eat literally anything they could find. Shit, Bruce, we eat borderline toxic vegetables for fun."

Bruce laughed. "Bucky, I'm a medical doctor who's treated patients in places you probably wouldn't consider sane to go to. Believe me, I know all about what we're able to eat to survive." Then he moved to lean sideways against the counter to face him. "Although I wonder which vegetable you were talking about. There's a lot of them."

"I was thinking peppers," Bucky said. "Capsaicin may kill Sharon, but there's a lot of people who think it's the best shit in the world."

"And people think humans would be the weak species in science fiction and fantasy."

Bucky shook his head. "One of these days, I'm gonna find a book or series that treats us as one of the scarier species in the galaxy, rather than the weak ones that everyone laughs at behind our backs. That day is not today though." He frowned. "I want the damn internet back so I can find some new books. I'm getting bored of rereading what I already have."

"We're all tired of the isolation," Bruce said. "But as long as you and Steve keep making progress, we might get out of here soon."

"That'd be nice." Not a subject Bucky wanted to think too much more on that early in the morning. Time to change the topic. "Have you checked the video from downstairs yet?"

Bruce shook his head. "I'll go do that now, get that out of there before she throws another temper tantrum."

That left Bucky alone with his thoughts, Bruce gone very quickly. He was a scientist eager to see if an experiment had produced any useable results, Bucky wasn't surprised that he had disappeared out the door so fast.

But it'd meant Bucky's only company at six in the morning was baking cupcakes and patriotic frosting and a sick feeling in his gut that the cupcakes might not be welcome, or that Steve would take it as moving faster than Bucky actually was. Steve wasn't really a needy person, but he was lost in Hydra and scared, and Bucky couldn't protect him and had too many angry issues of his own to be able to be there for him like he wanted and it was just a big mess. And Steve might take last night's 'just tonight' to have been decided against and Bucky would just come home.

He wanted to. He really really wanted to. He loved Maria, loved spending the night with her, and they had just gotten everything arranged to live together for a short stint, but part of him already wanted to pack back up and move back across the hall.

But Bucky wasn't sure how strong his grip on his other side was. How easily he could control that issue that was deeply rooted in his brain. Steve needed to accept the Soldier before Bucky could fully deal with that little demon enough to be safe sharing that small of a living space with Steve. And he was just across the hall, Steve could always wake Bucky and ask for the couches if it was really bad.

To be honest, though, he knew it was always bad. The night was always the worst. It would be better for Steve's sake if he just moved back in. At least, on the surface. But putting the Soldier that close to someone who'd rejected him wasn't smart. Bucky couldn't shake that. And it'd just end in more fights and undo any progress that had happened last night.

Bucky idly poked at the red-not-pink frosting with his spoon, trying to convince the ghost that Steve got it, that it should be okay again. But without hearing it from Steve's mouth, the Soldier would never believe that. Bucky would never believe it. He'd try. He'd want to. But there'd been a breach of trust that still stung.

Goddamnit, Bruce, get back up here with that camera.

"Do I smell something baking?"

Bucky looked up at Steve's voice, pushing aside the bowl with the red frosting and stepped out into the kitchen doorway, blocking any attempt at getting in. "You're up early."

"You're up earlier," Steve said.

Steve still had his pillow and his blanket in hand, the blanket trailing behind him like a dress's train, and his hair was a rumpled mess. Even without the bedding, it would've been easy for Bucky to tell that Steve had pretty much just literally rolled out of bed.

"I wasn't drugged to sleep like usual," Bucky said. "Before you worry about anything in here, go take your bedding up to your room and at least brush your hair and wash your face. You look like hell."

Steve grunted. "Flatterer." He stifled a yawn. "Fine, I'll go clean up and get dressed." He squinted at Bucky. "But you're telling me what you're making when I get back."

"Go on," Bucky said, not committing to that statement one direction or the other.

With another grunt that sounded more like a zombie's groan, Steve turned and left, the blanket slowly following him across the floor. Hopefully, by the time Steve was done in the bathroom, he'd be awake enough to be anal about making the bed and that'd give those cupcakes a bit more time.

"Bucky?" Bruce's voice this time, sounding dismayed. Bruce entered the room before Steve's blanket had finished leaving. He paused, looking at Steve. "Oh. Uh. You were going to go get dressed?"

Steve's voice was muffled by the wall, but Bucky heard a 'what happened?'

"Go get dressed," Bruce said, looking down at the camera in his hand. At least, Bucky thought it was the camera. It looked more like a pile of plastic. Great. "Wake the girls."

Shit. Really?

The rest of that blanket disappeared quickly, while Bruce carried the melted remains of the camera over to Bucky.

"I think that temper tantrum might not've necessarily had anything to do with just you two," Bruce said, holding the camera at a different angle. It was a complete mess, like it'd been flash fried.

Bucky sighed. "Well, that ruined my morning. I guess I'll try to fix the recorder, give it one more night, then contact JARVIS to see what he has in his databanks for this. Probably not much, but there's gotta be more than what we're doing. I'm not ready to try to delve into hocus pocus. Not quite that desperate yet."

It was Bruce's turn to sigh. "Yeah." He scowled at the pile of melted plastic in his hand. "I was looking forward to seeing what this might've caught."

"Fire, it looks like," Bucky said.

Bruce gave him a dirty look.

Bucky shrugged. "You left that door open." He glanced back into the kitchen, judging by smell if the cupcakes could handle him going up to the workroom or not. He decided against it and turned back to Bruce. "Mind going up and getting my tools? I'll work on the recorder after the cupcakes are ready. Someone else can cook breakfast."

"I'll do it," Bruce said. He eyed the ruined camera. "I guess I'll leave this up there for now until we figure out a safe way to dispose of it."

"We'll take care of it later. Go get my tools. I have cupcakes to rescue."


	20. Without Us Breaking Down

Bucky was already seated at the table nearest the kitchen, waiting for the cupcakes to cool enough to be frosted, when the first of the others filtered back. Bruce had returned almost immediately, giving Bucky his tools. Sharon was first in, looking artificially awake.

"There's coffee brewed," Bruce said, motioning to the kitchen. "Leave the cupcakes for later, they're still cooling and Bucky says nobody gets to ask about them."

"Damn right," Bucky said, too distracted by the recorder to put a lot of emotion into that. He'd let Bruce handle that for now. With a disgusted noise of frustration, he rested his forehead on the back of his wrist, keeping his tools and glove away from his face. "She really did a number on this thing."

"Who did what?" Sharon asked, walking back in with a cup of coffee that smelled brewed way too strong to be healthy for a normal human.

Bucky waved at the recorder. "Kitty had a tantrum last night and threw the recorder across the room. I can fix this, as long as nothing's melted, and I'm not finding anything out of the norm here, but she also flash-fried the camera downstairs."

Sharon sat down next to Bruce, hiding a sneer behind her cup. "You know, when I was her age, if I ruined someone else's toys, I was grounded for a month."

Bucky thought he heard something else in that statement, something in her voice that sounded very unsurprised about the melted camera and the broken recorder. He let it go- she had just woken up, and they were all starting to expect bad behavior out of Kitty.

"And I was hit with a switch," he said, going back to work. "Neither of which we can do with this particular kid."

"That seems a little extreme," Sharon said. She set down her mug. "Okay, since we have a camera that's no good and a recorder that's temporarily no good, that leaves me with only one thing I can really ask about. What's with the cupcakes?"

"No one gets to ask," Bucky reminded her. "I'll explain later, after food, this is fixed, and everyone's down here, not in that order."

"I smell cake," Maria said, joining them about then. "So this is what you meant by having baking to do."

Bucky held up a finger with a sharp 'shht.' "Those are secret, they remain secret. Go get something to drink while I fix this."

"Not much of a secret when we can smell them," Maria said, passing by the table to the kitchen. "Should I start breakfast? Steve shouldn't be far behind us."

"I'm not," Steve said, entering. "Okay, what happened to that camera and what am I smelling?"

"Coffee," Sharon said, sipping hers.

Bucky turned his head back towards the kitchen. "Maria, would you bring Steve a cup of tea?" Then he pointed a tiny screwdriver at Steve. "You, sit." When Steve looked geared up for an argument, Bucky sighed and pointed to the spot next to Sharon. "Steve, please. Sit down. Explanations forthcoming, but not until everyone's seated and has something to drink."

"Since I already know," Bruce said, getting up. "I'm going to take my turn at cooking breakfast. You can catch the others up on Kitty's bad behavior."

Steve groaned. "What else did she do?"

Bucky tilted the piece of recorder he was working on up. "You mean besides this?"

Maria joined them with a cup of coffee. "Bruce is watching the kettle for your tea, Steve," she said quietly, between Sharon and Bucky.

"Thank you," Steve said, barely taking his attention off the recorder. "So can you fix that?"

"Doing it now," Bucky said, going back to his work.

"Okay, so Steve knows what happened to that thing," Maria said. "How about sharing with the class?"

Steve sat back, crossing his arms. "Bucky and I were talking in here last night," he said. "Good talk, no yelling, before either of you worry."

"I knew about that. You two ended up on the couches," Maria said.

Sharon looked at her, then between Steve and Bucky. "Really?" She looked pleased by this, a small and hopeful smile on her face.

"Mmhmm," Steve replied. "It's a start." Then he motioned to Bucky, or rather, the recorder. "Kitty apparently didn't like us talking over her, so she let us know by sending a big spark through the wires to behind the picture. Shock exploded out from behind it. The picture was toast, and that hit the opposite wall."

Sharon tilted back to look at the wall. "I don't see any damage. Did she fix it again?"

"Immediately," Steve said. "At least she cleans up after herself."

Maria sighed, setting down her coffee and resting her forehead in her hands. "Please tell me the IR camera picked up something."

"That's the second problem," Bucky said, still distracted. He forced himself to stop and look up at her. "She hit that, too. It's a pile of melted plastic. I dunno what got under her skin, but it really annoyed her."

"I'm beginning to wonder if we should tell Tony this place isn't safe until he can figure out how to exorcise her," Maria said, then glanced upwards. "Or until he finds a way to convince her to leave us alone."

Bucky went back to the recorder. "That last one we can do ourselves," he said. "We just gotta find out what she wants to say besides 'wah wah I dun wanna!' when asked. We'll try this one more time, maybe just leave it out during the day, somewhere we don't tend to go, then tonight at dinner, listen to it."

"Out in the atrium, maybe?" Sharon said. "Or a classroom? We tend to stick to in here or the lounge, so those places are out."

"And I don't think the uniform room or any other room with a lot of electronic equipment we rely on would be a good idea," Maria added. "If she throws another temper fit, we can't afford for her to fry the locks on our uniforms so we can't get to them."

"Or our main computers in the watch tower."

"Those too."

Bucky wasn't quite done when he spoke up, interrupting the flow of the conversation. They'd have to deal with it. "Can someone run up to the work room and get me the electronics tape? It's thin, black, should be in the table drawers on the right side of the workbench, middle drawer."

"I'll do it," Steve said, getting up. "But only if I get to find out what you were baking in there."

"Everyone gets to know after breakfast. Go get me my tape."

With a frustrated noise directed at Bucky, Steve headed out of the cafeteria.

"It's a birthday cake for Steve, isn't it?" Maria asked. "It's the Fourth, that's his birthday."

Bucky scowled at her, not lifting his head from being bent over the recorder. "Everyone gets to find out after breakfast, and that is the story you stick with when Steve's around, got it?"

"I lost track of the date," Sharon said. "I forgot it was the Fourth. Too bad we don't have a grill, I do a pretty mean hamburger on the grill."

"Steve doesn't like being fed traditional Fourth of July foods," Bucky said, going back to fiddling with the last of the circuits in the recorder. "And no, it's not a cake. He hates those, too. He prefers to not be reminded of his birthday. Too many jokes to be made after he became Captain America."

He straightened, stretching his back until he felt something pop between his shoulder blades. "And I'm not a hundred percent certain acknowledging it at all is going to go over well this year. It's not been an easy few months for us."

Then he dropped his arms, setting down the tools in his hands, then took off his left glove. "And he's old. We senior citizens don't like being reminded of our ages."

Maria propped her chin on her fist, looking at Sharon. "You could always make him feel young again."

Sharon wrinkled her nose in annoyance. "He remembers me well enough, I think. We've been going over a lot of things, there aren't many holes left for us. But he still insists on waiting. I think I'm going to be wearing a diamond before he sleeps with me."

Bucky waved one arm at the door that Steve retreated through. "I'm not in there right now, you could always try to convince him to let you sleep with him in the literal sense. Might make him sleep a bit better right now. But yeah, you'll be wearing a ring before anything else, I think. He was raised Catholic, that little 'abstinence before marriage' thing probably isn't going away any time soon."

Sharon sat back and crossed her arms. "I just had to pick the good boy, didn't I?"

"You love him for it."

"Lucky for him."

Steve returned, just in time to have missed that little conversation, with tape in hand. "Here's your tape, Bucky."

"Thank you." He took it from Steve's offered hand, then started taping the two pieces of the recorder together, carefully matching up the insides before putting the tape into place.

Once the recorder was back in one piece, he held up, frowning as he judged if it was actually ready for testing, or if he should open it back up and check again. He finally decided to test it, turned on record, and held it out to Maria. "Say something for me."

Maria stared at the recorder, quirking one eyebrow, then looked past it at him. "You should know that if you wave something in my face without permission, I am likely to bite."

Bucky slowly pulled the recorder back, staring at her as horror swept through his brain. He clicked stop. "You're terrifying."

"I try to be."

Bucky shook his head, then hit playback on the recorder. Maria's frightening warning came through loud and clear, but Bucky's voice before that was a bit garbled from the distance between him and Maria. He swore. "Okay, so it still needs some work." He turned it off and set it down. "Later." He leaned back towards the kitchen. "Hey, Bruce, how's that thing that nobody gets to know about yet coming?"

"You can come commence Phase II if you want," Bruce called back. "You'll be done just in time for breakfast."

"Perfect." Getting to his feet, Bucky pointed his finger at Steve, but looked around at both of the girls, too. "Nobody enters that kitchen, understood? I will throw pots and pans at the person who does."

Steve held up his hands in surrender. "I know when not to go into the kitchen," he said. "Go commence Phase II."

"As long as it's not old Hydra weapons," Maria said.

Steve groaned. "I thought that sounded familiar."

"The only former Hydra weapon around here is me," Bucky said, then looked very pointedly at Steve. "Emphasis on _former._ So relax, there's no death involved."

Steve didn't look particularly impressed with the Hydra joke, if one could call it that, but he didn't say anything about it. Too soon. Bucky hadn't been thinking when he said it until it'd already been said. He'd tried to save it, but it didn't look like he had.

Damnit.

Dear brain, stop and think occasionally.

Retreating into the kitchen, Bucky felt the compelling need to stop at the closest wall where he wouldn't be seen by the others and beat his head against it. So he did.

"I heard," Bruce said, voice quiet, startling a few years off of Bucky's lifespan. "I think any other time, it would've been okay, so don't feel bad. Old habits."

Bucky sighed, thunking his head one last time on the wall and leaving it there. "I'm an idiot."

"Not necessarily," Bruce said, turning back to whatever he was making. It smelled good, whatever it was, and whatever it was included some sort of bread that was cooling on the counter next to the stove. "I make jokes like that about the Other Guy sometimes. Makes it easier to deal with him." He motioned to Bucky. "Come take care of that frosting."

Reluctantly, Bucky walked away from the wall and counted out the cupcakes, saving one back for the not-pink frosting, then divided the rest out. There was an odd number, and looking at how much blue frosting compared to white frosting there was, white got the extra cupcake.

He was done with the blue and just turning to the white cupcakes when Bruce spoke up, once again doing bad things to Bucky's strung tight nerves. "You might wanna hurry up," Bruce said. "Breakfast is almost done."

Bucky picked up his pace, setting aside the unhappy feeling and the images and colors in his head that were accompanying it, pausing only to look over at the stove. "What're you making, anyway?"

"Misal Pav," Bruce said. "It's normally spicy, but I'm being considerate of Sharon's stomach and cutting out quite a bit. Really wish I could share the backwater stuff, but I don't think she could handle it."

"She's got an abnormally sensitive stomach," Bucky agreed with only half focus, most of his attention on hurrying with the cupcakes.

Bruce made a noise that neither agreed nor disagreed. "Sharon had her gallbladder removed when she was sixteen. Some people who have problems with their gallbladders, or have had them removed, sometimes have trouble with spicy foods. There's more to it with her, I'm sure, but that doesn't help."

Bucky shook his head, setting down another frosted cupcake on a serving tray. "Once again, I marvel at how crazy our species is. We survive removing an entire digestive tract organ and just avoid spicy foods afterwards."

Bruce smiled, grabbing a bowl and holding it over the pan while dishing a portion of food into it. "And just think, there are people who purposely have half their stomach sectioned off so they can lose weight."

"Humans are nuts," Bucky said. He looked at Bruce. "Just take my bowl out, I'm almost done here. My food won't be cold before I'm done."

"I'll just leave your bowl in here for you to carry out yourself."

"Generous."

"As always."

Bucky watched as Bruce balanced the other four bowls in his hands- Bucky was sure Bruce had to have worked as a waiter at some point -and maneuvered around Bucky to the kitchen door.

"Jesus, Bruce, you could've had Bucky help you," Sharon's voice came floating into the kitchen.

"He's finishing up in there," Bruce replied. "Take one of these bowls, please."

There was a couple thumps with the distinctive sound of glass getting hit, then a scrape of chair, then two more thumps.

"So what's he doing in there?" Steve asked.

"I can't tell you," Bruce said. "Doctor-patient confidentiality."

"What did he do, bake someone's spleen?"

Bucky paused, bowing his head, shoulders shaking with the effort keep his laughter silent. Oh Steve.

"Uh, no, not the spleen."

Bruce. Please. Trying to finish frosting cupcakes. Stop that.

"You'll find out when you find out," Bucky called back into the dining room, setting down the second to last cupcake, fully frosted.

"That's no fair!" Sharon called back. "You made something that smells yummy."

Good acting, Sharon. No wonder you managed to play bodyguard twice for so long to Steve without being caught.

Bucky finished frosting the last cupcake and set the tray aside. Just Steve's left. "Deal with it," he said, digging into the tiny bit of not-pink frosting. His breakfast was taunting him, sitting next to him and smelling delicious. His stomach prompted him to hurry up.

Yeah, yeah, three seconds. Don't stage a mutiny here.

The not-pink cupcake frosted and set aside from the others, Bucky grabbed his bowl with the piece of bread or whatever that was floating on top of it, and left the kitchen to join the others. "You all have no patience," he grumbled, taking a seat next to Maria.

"I was being patient," Maria said, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"You get served second, then," Bucky said, starting to eat before his food stopped steaming.

"Second?"

"Second. Now eat."

Steve gave him a suspicious look, more certain than not, and Bucky would be surprised if Steve had already figured out what he'd made and why. He had to have looked at his phone to know the time at some point that morning; if he'd missed the date, he was blind or willfully ignoring it.

Oh well. At least he was playing along. Which told Bucky that the gesture was welcome, or at least not _un_ welcome.

Sharon made an appreciative noise. "So I'm gonna guess by the flavor that this is Indian food," she said. "It's good, and it's not spicy, so it's not going to make me suffer. Lemme guess, there used to be four different types of chilis in here?"

Bruce chuckled around a bite of food. He swallowed before answering, and that swallow sounded like it was taking some effort with that laugh choking it. "The original recipe called for chili powder, yes. There were other things in there."

"They make such good food in India," Sharon said. "But they apparently love to destroy their insides with it."

"Not everything over there is spicy," Bruce said. "Native cultures just work with what they have and some areas have spicier local flora and fauna than other places. This particular version of Misal Pav is fairly mainstream and watered down for tourists. I know a recipe I got from a woman whose son had been sick. I got called in, got him through a horrible case of the norovirus, he wasn't keeping anything in and he was getting dangerously dehydrated. She gave me her family's recipe as thanks, since she didn't have money." He gave Sharon an amused look. "It would destroy you in seconds."

Sharon stopped and poked at her bowl's contents with her spoon. "I have no doubt about that," she said. "What'd she put in there, Satan's breath?"

While Bucky smothered a laugh and Steve just rested his forehead on his hand and didn't bother smothering his laughter, Maria actually outright choked on her food, forced to drop her spoon back into her bowl and pound her fist against her chest and cough hard enough that Bucky was shocked food didn't follow that horrible noise up.

"Not going to die on us?" he asked, like the amazingly sympathetic boyfriend that he was.

Maria nodded, face red, coughed a couple more times, inhaled a large breath, then exhaled it slowly. Then she pointed at Sharon. "How many times have I told you not to do that to me?"

Sharon looked not one bit apologetic. "I wasn't looking at you, I didn't know you were in the middle of a bite this time!"

"You do it on purpose often enough," Maria grumbled, looking back at her food like it was suddenly the enemy.

Steve looked between them, spoon halfway to his mouth. "What's this about?"

Since Sharon seemed to only want to smile smugly and go back to food, Maria did him (and Bucky, who was equally curious) a favor and explained. "When we visit each others' apartments for dinner, she has this routine she thinks is funny where she says something like that while I'm in the middle of a bite, just to try to make me choke."

Steve gave Sharon a mock scolding look. "You are a bad woman."

Bucky sincerely hoped that Sharon would take that opening.

She flashed an evil smile and bedroom eyes at Steve. "I could show you how bad I am. It's your birthday after all."

She did. Good girl. You don't disappoint.

Steve didn't answer at first, staring her down like there was some sort of battle of wills going on that was probably just Steve's brain deciding if he remembered enough to argue with his Catholic upbringing.

"You might wanna take her up on her offer," Bucky said, acting like he was barely paying attention, but his focus was on every word and policing his tone, trying to make sure he didn't overstep boundaries that were still in place that hadn't been there once upon a time. "I'm not planning on living with Maria forever, you might not get another chance for awhile."

Sharon leaned over to rest her head on Steve's shoulder and bat her eyelashes up at him. "I'll be nice, I promise. I'll break out the gags later."

"Okay, I think that is now a hard no," Steve said, lifting his shoulder to push her back into a sitting position. He took another bite, then pointed his spoon at her. "You sabotage your attempts at seducing me all on your own with jokes like that."

She stuck out her lower lip. "It was just a joke," she said, laying on the pouting routine thick. Bucky had to resist the urge to laugh. At Steve's incredulous look, she dropped the pout and gave him a real frown of frustration. "Steve, you're not Catholic anymore and I'm not hearing or seeing any signs of a ring coming my way. At this rate, I'm going to buy a star spangled vibrator and call it Cap."

Bucky was not the only one at that table trying really, really, _really_ hard not to laugh at that.

Steve, for his part, had to put his spoon back into his almost empty bowl and prop his head on his hand, peeking out at her from between splayed fingers. "The worst part here is that I think you would," he said. He sighed, dropping his hand. "I'll _think_ about it. Bucky's right, I'm not gonna have privacy in there much longer."

"There's always my room," Sharon pointed out. "Not to put your decision off longer."

"Can we possibly not discuss this with the others?"

"Steve?" Bruce said. "We've been talking about each others' intimate lives with each other almost since you moved to the Tower. Believe me, this is nothing we haven't all heard a thousand times."

Steve stared at him blankly a second, frowned, then shook his head once in surrender. "We have, haven't we? All right, conversation continues then."

"Oh good," Sharon said. "Because I want to promise I really will be nice to the cute virgin."

Steve gave her a look of great consternation. "You make me tired, Sharon."

"Actually," Maria interrupted, "with a super soldier's endurance, you'll probably make _her_ tired long before she tires you out."

Steve looked between her and Bucky a few times. "Okay, conversation over." He looked at his bowl. "And I think breakfast over, too, actually." He looked at Bucky. "When do I get whatever you made in there?"

"As soon as everyone tells me they're up for a bit more food," Bucky said. "Since you know what I made is food. I don't want anyone to feel guilty for not being able to eat any of what I made. We'll wait until later in that case."

"I have room for dessert," Maria said.

"I was careful about portions," Bruce said, standing. "I knew there'd be anarchy if what you made wasn't brought out as soon as possible. So we should all have room."

Bucky stood up. "You're a wise man, Bruce," he said, grabbing his empty bowl and Maria's. "We'll get the breakfast mess cleaned, then I'll present my baked goods. They're damn good baked goods, so I expect worship and praise afterwards."

"Just go get them, Bucky," Steve said. "Before your ego rages out of control."

That earned him a cranky look. "I'll make sure you get fed last," Bucky said, not at all meaning that. Steve got his not-pink cupcake first.

"I'm sure I'll live," Steve said, handing his bowl to Bruce.

"Only if I let you," Bucky muttered under his breath, entering the kitchen before the words were out of his mouth. He pointed at the not-pink cupcake when Bruce came in and looked at him. "He says one word about that being pink, I'm beating him with a sock full of marbles."

Bruce pursed his lips in an attempt not to laugh that was only half successful. "You better go find those marbles then," he said, heading to the dishwasher.

Bucky followed. "It's red," he grumbled.

"Not really," Bruce said, loading the dishes he had into the dishwasher. "It's not really red. Not quite that pastel shade of pink it started at, though."

"Hmph. It's not pink." Bucky helped Bruce with the rest of the dishes, then straightened from leaning over the dishwasher's bottom rack. His back cracked in the process. "Think you can get the serving plates with the blue and white cupcakes?" he asked. "I'll take the red one in to Steve." Then he frowned. "And it's red, not pink."

"Of course it isn't," Bruce said, then frowned. "Do your joints usually pop like that? I'd think someone with your physiology wouldn't need to crack their joints."

Bucky shrugged. "Just my back. It's not that the bones in my spine are weaker than the rest of me, I just like cracking my back."

"Yes, but how does it get out of alignment to crack back into position?"

"Because I shift to move them on purpose," Bucky said, turning to the cupboard to get out a saucer to put Steve's not-pink cupcake on. "Like I said, I just like the feeling of my back cracking. Leaves the muscles feeling relaxed."

Bruce stepped over next to him and picked up one of the serving platters. "I didn't realize you had that sort of control over your muscles to purposely move your vertebrae around."

Bucky glanced at him. "You think Hydra wouldn't give me that kind of control?"

"I didn't think it was possible," Bruce said. "But then, you like to defy what I think is possible."

Bucky turned to him fully, leaning on the counter with Steve's not-pink cupcake in one hand. "Bruce, you turn into a green rage monster when you get too upset, but a super soldier being able to flex his back muscles in a way that shifts his back out of alignment purely for the sake of getting to crack the bones back into place is somehow not possible?"

Bruce stared at him. Then he scowled, and picked up the other cupcake platter. "You know, the doctor's supposed to be the right one here."

Bucky shook his head. "I know my body better than you, Bruce. Now, if we're done discussing my body's weirdness, I'm going to go give Steve his red and not pink cupcake and you can follow with the others."

Bruce grumped at him, but motioned for Bucky to move and go first.

Argument won and a smug grin on his face, Bucky headed back out into the cafeteria. "Okay, everyone can quit bitching that I'm not sharing my baked goods," he said, walking around the table to get to Steve. He set the saucer down in front of him. "And I'm not singing happy birthday to you, but happy birthday."

Nobody seemed to be paying attention to the cupcakes Bruce set down; even Bruce seemed to have his focus on Steve more than the cupcakes. While Bucky was forcing his tone and body language to be as relaxed as possible, inside he was on edge. One night of talking and then sleeping on the couches wasn't necessarily the end of the fighting. In fact, far from it. There was still a major hurdle for them to get over, notably Steve, but Bucky wasn't without guilt.

Which made the offering of baked goodies as a birthday present a potentially dangerous thing to do.

Steve stared at the cupcake a moment, then looked up at Bucky. "You baked me a pink cupcake this year?"

Bucky sneered. That tone was all the old Steve, so he felt comfortable throwing out some mock annoyance. "It's not pink. It's red. It took up all the red food dye to make that frosting red."

Steve scrunched his face, one eyebrow raising while the other went down into a look of incredulity. "Bucky, that's pink. I don't know where that food dye came from, but that's not red. It's pink."

"You should've seen the pastel color it was with only a few drops of dye," Bruce said, disrupting that teasing turning into genuine anger.

Steve looked back down at the cupcake. "Okay, this is closer to red than that," he agreed. "But it's still kinda pink."

"Not pink," Bucky argued.

Steve looked up at him out of the corner of his eye. "This is eighties pink."

"Red. Don't blame me that darker red requires something more than grocery store food dye. But it's red anyway. That's not pink."

Steve's gaze went back to his cupcake. Finally, he picked it up, peeled off the paper, and toasted Bucky with it, as if it were a glass of wine instead of a cupcake. "Not pink."

Bucky smiled. "Damn straight." He waved his hand over the platters that Bruce had sat down. "Okay, you can all have some. And yes, Steve, I did go for a red, white, and blue scheme this year. This is the first year I've had food dye for my frosting."

Steve made a pleased noise around a bite of cupcake. Before he even finished swallowing, he spoke up. "It's your buttercream frosting. Good, I was hoping it was when you brought this out."

Bucky patted his shoulder. "I knew it was your favorite. And you got extra compared to the other cupcakes. So happy birthday."

Finally swallowing, Steve once again lifted the cupcake slightly in Bucky's direction. "Thanks." He poised the cupcake to take another bite, glancing up at Bucky before doing so. "Just remember, I'm getting you back for the star spangled theme."

Bucky moved back around to sit. "So the star spangled man has a plan?"

"Shut up."


	21. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

A/N: I'm sorry for posting so many times in a row and maybe spamming, but I'm checking into inpatient care today, and I don't know how long I'll be there. It might be a few days. So I thought I'd post something to make up for however long I'm gone.

* * *

Morning conversation turned easy after that. Instead of everyone trying to part Steve and Bucky in different directions, the five of them all stayed at the table, chatting. Sharon took some pictures, despite Steve insisting he could draw all of them together for her. She turned it down, stating she liked taking photos.

"So who started this tradition?" Maria asked once the cupcakes were down to the last two blues and three whites, most of the damage done by the super soldiers and not by the normal people who'd just consumed a semi normal sized meal.

"Bucky did," Steve said, wadding his last piece of paper around a sizeable ball of wrappers that he set down in front of him. "I didn't want cake for my birthday after Mom died. That was a couple years after Bucky came home from school, and a few years before the war. She would make me a cake every year, until she got sick. It felt wrong having a cake without her. Bucky tried one year, and the whole thing ended up just going to his family because I couldn't take it. So the next year, he made cupcakes instead and argued me into submission that it wasn't a cake, but it was still my birthday, so I needed something baked for me." He shrugged. "Sometimes, when Bucky wants something, even I can't outstubborn him."

Which was a miracle, given how bull-headed Steve could be. Bucky refrained from giving that thought voice.

"Then the war happened, and cupcakes weren't really a priority anymore," Steve continued.

Bucky heard the reluctance to keep going in Steve's voice, so he picked up the story for him. "I wasn't around for the first two years Steve was back out from under the ice, so he didn't get anything to my knowledge, but I got home there in DC in time to get him a cupcake." He propped both elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands. "I hadn't really regained my skills that weren't necessary to killing people, so I sucked up my anxiety, stole a little money from our savings jar, and went out and bought him a cupcake from a grocery store."

Steve didn't say anything about the following year, staring at Bucky silently, and Bucky couldn't tell if it was reluctance to talk about Peggy's death, or something else entirely. Maybe Bucky's mention of his lack of skills outside of assassinations those first few months.

He decided to test the waters.

"Last year, Peggy died, so the cupcake kinda got shoved aside." Bucky looked at Steve. "I didn't see why this year couldn't have them, though."

Fighting wasn't a reason to stop that tradition, at least until they had both called it quits for good. Bucky didn't foresee that happening, and while he and the Soldier were still feeling like Steve had drawn his line in the sand, it was just that- in the sand. Tides would wipe away that line and the two (three, if the Soldier counted as his own person, which Bucky didn't) of them could work out a different line- in stone, rather than sand. Something more permanent. Bucky just had to have patience.

His patience was running out, but the night before and that morning had helped put a pause on how fast it was disappearing.

"So we're all stuffed on cupcakes," Sharon said, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling, "so they may not fit right now, but I think we should get into our uniforms." She lifted her head to their confused faces and held up a hand before anyone could ask her if she'd lost her mind. "I have a reason, but we'll go outside first." She gave a pointed nod at the radio sitting next to Bucky.

Oh. Get away from Kitty. The uniforms suddenly made sense to Bucky's paranoid nature, and he very much agreed with her.

"We can test the training center while we're out there," Maria said. She looked at Bruce. "You don't have a uniform, but you can come observe. The other guy hasn't really had a chance to see one of his allies in action, it might be good for future endeavors. We're not staying here forever, after all."

Good, make it sound less suspicious than that they're all going outside in their uniforms for no real reason.

Bucky's stomach sank as he realized Steve was staring at him, no longer as happy as he was just a bit ago. Maria had indirectly mentioned the Soldier, in the context of being in uniform. Wonderful. Steve was already geared up to stick with the assumptions he'd already been making.

So much for their few steps forward.

But, Steve didn't disagree, and Bucky really didn't either, so while Bruce waited in the cafeteria, the other four made their way up to the uniform displays.

The others were quick to grab their uniforms; Bucky hesitated. They were waiting for him, and that put more pressure on him as he looked between the tactical vest and the jacket with his liquid armor in it. He was uncertain about using either of them, not wanting to see which would get what reaction from Steve. Both felt bad to him.

"Bucky?"

Fuck it. Bucky grabbed both, bundling up his weapons in them. He'd decide which to wear when he dressed. "Coming," he said in reply to Maria.

With the look on Steve's face- almost unreadable, like too many conflicting emotions trying to express themselves all at once -Bucky was just as glad that he wouldn't be changing in the same room as Steve. While it might help Steve to see that yes, under that uniform, it really was just Bucky, Bucky wasn't in the mood to deal with the chance that it would just make things worse.

So he split off from the others in the hall, following Maria into their temporarily shared quarters.

They dressed quickly, or at least Maria did. She had less to fuss with, her suit mostly a once pice with a hip holster that held a single semi on her right side, the holster slightly loose to allow the gun to rest more on her thigh than her hip. There was a sheath with a throwing knife in it on her left side. He hadn't noticed that before; maybe she just hadn't used it where he'd seen, but now she was.

"I didn't know you knew how to throw knives," he said, securing his knee pads.

"I have more skills than just with a gun and hand to hand," she said. "I'm former SHIELD, and not one of the desk jockeys. I have to have as much as possible."

He pulled on his boots, ignoring the jacket and tactical vest sitting on the bed still. "You still in practice?"

"I stay in practice with everything," she said, and he could feel her watching him while she spoke. "I may not have as much experience as you, but I'm still deadly with them."

He glanced up at her, one foot braced on the edge of the bed for him to lace up his boot. "I never said you weren't. I just wondered."

She frowned faintly. "You also still have some old-fashioned sexism in your brain. You don't give me enough credit sometimes. I'm sure it's the same with Sharon."

Bucky made a grumbling noise, lacing up his other boot. "That's not true," he said. "I barely saw you fighting at the club, and everyone between us and the front door at Palestine were already dead by the time you found Steve and I." He dropped his foot and grabbed his hip and thigh holsters to start strapping them on. "I don't mistrust your abilities, I saw where you both were in training for Palestine just fine. I just haven't seen you in real action. Makes me nervous about where to put you two in a real mission."

She raised an eyebrow. "Does Steve usually leave you in charge of those details in a mission?"

Bucky paused, turtleneck half pulled on. "Sometimes. Last time he did. That mission's not really over." He finished pulling on his shirt. "But sometimes he does." Then he stared at the awkward pile of what was left of his uniform on the bed in front of him. "But I forgot you're in charge now. So come make a decision for me."

"I'm only in charge if you want me to be," she reminded him, stepping around the bed. She looked down at the mess of the vest and the coat. "What are we deciding?"

At first he couldn't articulate what decision this was, knew what it was, but what were words?

At his silence, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders, leaning her head on his metal shoulder. "What's wrong?"

He took in a deep breath, deciding to just spit out whatever came out and hope it made sense. How much easier it'd be if he could just pick up someone and stuff them in his head so they could see instead of waiting for him to find words, like he'd wished before many times.

"Steve's seen both of these as Hydra's Soldier. Palestine, but I really doubt he doesn't remember at least the helicarrier." He looked at her. "I'm not sure which would prevent a fight the most." There, that was it.

Maria studied him, then looked down at the vest and coat to study them. "If he remembers the helicarrier, then he remembers finding you under that uniform. Go with the vest. Besides." She looked back at him. "It's probably too hot for the coat anyway."

"Can't deny that," he said, shrugging out of her grip to grab his tactical vest.

She waited silently while he messed with the straps on his vest, then loaded up his weapons. "Ready?"

"Yeah." He pulled on his glove, then grabbed his mask and goggles. "Ladies first."

"You send your lady to clear the area?" There was Maria's dry humor. Normally inspiring a back and forth of sarcasm, but Bucky wasn't in the mood.

"If we were going anywhere but into the hall, no," he said. "Come on, let's go see what Sharon wants."

Maria got the hint, took the rebuffing with grace, and headed out, leaving him to close the door behind them.

Bucky had taken long enough to change- not just his indecision, but because the tactical vest was a pain in the ass to get into, and he easily had the most little pieces to strap and buckle on -that they were the last ones to meet in the cafeteria.

"Before anyone makes a quickie remark, please observe his uniform and how unnecessarily complicated it is," Maria said upon entering the room. And not without prompting; Sharon looked ready to say just that very thing. Bruce tried to look as innocent as possible.

The only one who didn't look ready to make a joke- that he would've at one time -was Steve. That look from the uniform room was still there, studying Bucky like he wasn't sure if the familiarity of the uniform was comforting, or alarming. If trust or mistrust was required in their current situation.

Trust, Steve. The person wearing this uniform has saved our butts more times than we can count. Please.

Whether Steve heard that silent plea or not, he didn't show it, just looked away to Sharon. "We're here, now what?"

"Well, the training building's out that way," she said as innocently as possible, pointing out the back door. "I mean, the cafeteria's really not built to let these uniforms stretch their wings."

Steve ran a hand down his face, giving Sharon a mild glare. "Sharon, you make me feel tired all over sometimes."

She flashed him an impish grin. "No I don't, you won't let me." Then she backed up to the back door. "Come on."

Bucky was sure at that point that nobody questioned what she was doing, or rather, why. She'd been fairly pointed with that look at the exploded recorder, and getting into uniform while talking about what Bucky realized the others were viewing as more of a threat than he had so far been willing to was smart, but she was still being weird about it.

He had a feeling that the second they stepped outside, she'd switch languages or find some other way for them to communicate without Kitty understanding them.

She turned to walk backwards towards the training center. "Does everyone know Russian?" she asked in the aforementioned language once they were all out the door.

Yup, called it.

"I know enough to have a conversation," Bruce answered with an accent that indicated he'd learned from immersion and not a text book.

"I am slow, but if nobody goes quick, I can follow," Maria said, and _she_ sounded like she came out of a text book. Bucky made note to help her finish learning the language after they were no longer dealing with a potentially dangerous ghost.

"I'm mostly fluent," Steve said, slow for someone as fluent as he claimed, but he was looking at Maria when he said it. Good, Bucky didn't have to rag on him to take her into account when talking.

When Sharon looked at Bucky, he just shrugged. "Second language."

There, avoid making it Hydra's fault that he knew the language. Steve would guess, know from those files, but Bucky didn't have to bring more attention to it than necessary. This upcoming conversation was obviously going to be important, so just best not to bring in potential fight material.

"Good." Sharon didn't remark more on that, instead, turning away and motioning the others to follow her to the training building. Bucky itched to ask her what was going on, and he was sure the others felt the same, but they all knew she'd tell them as soon as she could, and not before.

Someone, Bucky noted, had gone in to the training center after him the other day and reset the dummies and programs. The destruction of innocent fake opponents was nowhere to be seen. He didn't know who, wasn't even sure who to guess, but it was a relief; Steve had 'first met' the Soldier in there, or at least had first spoken to him, and Bucky wanted Steve to pay more attention to Sharon than any unhappy thoughts the place would dredge up. The more neutral the surroundings, the better.

Pay attention to Sharon. Yes, a good idea. Stop being hyper paranoid, something more important was obviously going on than Steve's issue with Bucky's uniform and coping technique.

"All right, we're in here," Bruce said, sticking with the agreed upon Russian. "What do you have?"

Sharon motioned them to gather around her while she produced her phone from inside her uniform, tucked against the left side of her chest. Jesus, Sharon, who keeps their phone in their bra?

Bucky had a feeling he shouldn't ask that question.

Maria stepped over to her side, Bruce on the other, leaving the two taller and broader super soldiers to look over their heads.

"You picked up something last night in the walls?" Maria asked in a slow and deliberate tone.

Must teach her more Russian.

Sharon was scrolling through her camera pictures. "I did," she said, finally pulling up a video. She clicked on it.

The video, while a blank white wall, at least had audio. "That's not exactly filling us with confidence in this, Bucky." Steve's voice.

"I know." Bucky's voice, a bit closer to the camera's microphone. "But I don't know what else we can do. Bruce and I are shooting from the hip."

"We'll try this," Maria said in the video. "If it doesn't work, we'll see what else might be available to us."

"So another trip to town for me." Sharon's voice was loudest. "And why am I keeping an eye on a blank wall?"

"Wires. If our ghost lives in them, you might pick up something." A pause as the edge of the camera caught Bucky looking back at Sharon. "Sharon, switch with me. I'll pull up the rear."

"Any reason why?" The video moved forward and closer to the wall, Bucky disappearing from view. "We're not expecting to be attacked by anything from behind, are we?"

The video stayed of the blank white wall as the group in the recording walked, until a shadowy line appeared in the wall, something Bucky was certain he hadn't seen, followed by several more. The wires, it looked like, zipping around the wall, almost as if taunting Sharon that they couldn't be seen.

"Maybe a cat." Bucky's voice, farther away. "But back there isn't a good angle to get proper video from. I'd be in the way. Puts my arm farther from the detector, too. It was setting the damn thing off."

The hair on the back of Bucky's neck stood on end when the group reached the end of the hallway and the wires twisted, formed a noose, waiting to hang someone.

"If Kitty is hostile, does that put your arm in danger of getting shut down?" Bucky hadn't noticed how much concern was in Maria's voice in that statement at the time, too focused on finding anything that might point to them not being out of their minds, looking for a ghost.

Inside the noose, new wires rose to the surface until they made a distinct five pointed star in the middle.

"Maybe." Bucky sounded far too nonchalant with that, he realized, far too distracted from the actual possibility of a weakness. "I don't know. If we find out she's hostile, I'll get the hell out and contact Tony. But we don't know if Kitty's a threat or not."

Apparently, she was.

Sharon stopped the playback. "I noticed this when I was taking pictures this morning." She turned slightly to look back up at Bucky. "That's a pretty obvious death threat, Bucky, and it could be either for you or Steve."

"I'm betting Bucky," Bruce said, stepping away a bit to give the group a bit more breathing space. "Steve's shield is iconic, but it's been locked away up in the uniform room. There's not been a lot of reason for K-" He paused, cleared his throat, and looked at Maria. "Am I speaking too fast?"

Maria shook her head. "No, I am following okay."

"The ghost hasn't had a chance to associate the star to Steve," Sharon said, completing Bruce's thought, both the statement, and the unspoken one about not saying Kitty's name. It was doubtful that Kitty didn't already know they were talking about her, with that video on the phone, but at least she wouldn't know what they were saying.

Assuming she didn't know Russian.

"But Bucky's arm has been on display pretty much this whole time, with the short sleeves and tank tops because of the weather."

Maria frowned, looking over Sharon's shoulder at the phone again. "And he has been the most aggressive about finding the ghost of all of us. He has made most of the decisions on this issue."

"And he built the detector," Bruce said. "He seems the likely target."

Bucky motioned to Sharon to give him the phone, and he looked at the playback again, watching those shadowy lines, the wires just below the surface of the walls, staring at that noose. "She could be saying something else," he said, throwing an idea out that he knew was a bad one.

"Your tone does not sound like you believe this," Maria said.

"I don't."

"Then why say it?"

"Because I didn't want to be wrong about a kid being an evil little bitch."

Bucky looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye. Steve had stayed silent so far, which was odd, as Steve usually had something to say when a clear danger was presented to himself or a teammate. They had just had a good morning, the uniform couldn't possibly have already flipped things around so much that Steve didn't care.

Finally, Steve took the phone from Bucky, looking at it, then looked back at Bucky. "Make the call, Buck."

Bucky bit back the urge to argue- the habit that shouldn't have become a habit -to verbally bite with the accusation that Steve hadn't this whole time liked Bucky taking control. But that morning had been good. The night before had been good. Steve had said he'd get on the case of anyone who thought this mission belonged to anyone but Bucky, and though he hadn't been explicit, Bucky had heard that "including me" loud and clear in Steve's tone.

So Steve really was trusting Bucky to make the decision for the group. Bucky wasn't sure how he felt about that. He needed orders to proceed. While Steve was the one making that call, handing the details over to Bucky as he had with Palestine, the Soldier still didn't want to follow Steve's orders.

Bucky glanced at Maria. She'd agreed to take that spot until Steve and Bucky had fully reconciled, and the Soldier wasn't about to back out on his controller, temporary or not.

Maria squared her shoulders a bit. "You will make the best call," she said.

Damn, now the decision really _was_ his.

He didn't want to leave just yet. He wanted to keep this place safe and secure, wanted to maybe find away to just exorcise Kitty. They could let Tony come in, or rather, send someone in, who could do that, but he wasn't sure where they could run to safely, and if Tony had any other place to hide them, he didn't know about it.

They needed to contact Tony, and it didn't seem anyone was going to until Bucky told them to.

He reached for the phone again, staring at the last frame of the stopped video, that noose with the star.

Little bitched wanted to play, and the Soldier ached to show her why that challenge was not a smart one. But that play wouldn't be smart; she was in the wires, what was he supposed to do to hurt her?

"Bucky?"

"Everyone go pack as minimally as you can. One suitcase each. If you have something that can't be replaced, photos, drawings, writings, whatever, pack those." He turned on his comm. "Junior, plug in."

"How can I help?"

"Contact JARVIS, put him on standby. We need to temporarily evacuate. Our ghost is unfriendly and can set the place on fire around our ears if we don't get out. We'll be out to board the jet as soon as possible. Get the engines fired up."

"Consider it done."

Bucky turned off his comm, just to be safe. He didn't need Kitty to fry it in his head if she started getting upset. "If any of you have your comms, take them off, give them to me. I have a spare pocket on my belt for them. I don't want her zapping any-"

Bucky's words hit a brick wall as a distant explosion rattled the floor under them, forcing everyone to grab onto something to keep steady. It sounded like a transformer crackling and blowing out a city's worth of electricity. The angry sound of cats growling followed, and the five of them scattered as all twenty of the school's ghost cats flew through the walls, the door- which sparked and popped at the lock -and started running up walls and dangerously close to human feet at a terrifying pace. Lightning followed in their wake, burning whatever they touched.

That particular group wasn't given to mass hysteria, but an electrical attack by twenty ghost cats had them all yelling and jumping up on exercise machines and onto grounded rubber yoga mats and up on the shoulders of stationary dummies, all to get away from potential harm.

"Bruce!"

Bucky risked turning his attention away from the cats to look up at Sharon's warning, almost not heard over the horrific noise the cats were making.

Bruce was slamming himself against the wall, a stray cat or two bouncing off him with no effect. His skin had turned a sickly shade of green, darkened, deepened.

Shit.

"Bruce-"

"I don't think there's any stopping him," Bucky snapped, jumping as a cat went by, slid into the walls. The other cats followed suit, their electricity crackling and snapping along the walls, caging them in.

Bruce's size grew, pained shouts turning to angry growls as his shirt ripped.

"Let him do it," Bucky said, backing away as much as he could without hitting the live wires of the walls. "We need a way out. Just try to direct him to the arc reactor and away from the school. If he can destroy the arc reactor, Kitty has-"

The roar of the Hulk drowned out everything else, the electric shocks, their voices, the loud glitching of dummy opponents and holograms that were activated in erratic ways, their systems overloaded.

Sharon hopped down off a dummy's shoulders. "Big guy, the arc reactor!" she yelled up at him, and Bucky fervently hoped he heard her over everything else. "We can make it stop if we take out th-"

Her words choked off as a wire that Bucky hadn't noticed leaving the confines of the ceiling wrapped itself around Sharon's neck and flung her back against the far wall, away from the direction the Hulk was already running in, crashing through the front wall of the training center.

"Sharon!"

Steve was first to her, unwrapping the now dead wire from around her neck. Her throat bore a burn that looked nasty, sharp red and already blistering.

Bucky pulled on his goggles and looked up at Maria. "Go to Junior, call Tony immediately and find us a place to run to." He looked at Steve, who was more interested in Sharon at the moment. "Steve, take Sharon, carry her if you have to, follow the other guy. We still need him to take out the arc reactor and she's the only one that's got a chance at directing him."

Steve didn't argue with the order to pick up Sharon. "What about you?" he asked once up on his feet with Sharon cradled in his arms. She was coughing hard, wheezing between hacking fits. Good, at least her wind pipe hadn't been severed by that wire. She'd be sore and have trouble talking, but she was breathing, that was better than not.

Bucky pulled on his face mask. "I'm going to try to buy you guys time. The sledgehammer's still in the basement, I'll keep her busy."

The electricity in the room had died when Sharon had hit the floor, the wire she'd been grabbed by hanging dead. Bucky stared at it. "Maybe."

"Think the other guy already took out the reactor?" Maria asked, looking through the hole in the wall.

Bucky turned on the HUD in his goggles. There was still electricity crackling along the walls of the school, the lines sputtering and hissing where they hung loose from the other guy's line of destruction. At least it looked like he was heading in the general direction of the arc reactor. Making a helluva mess on the way there, of course. Bucky hoped the school didn't cave in on itself from that; there were some non-replaceable things in there.

"Negative," he reported. "I still see electricity in the building." He looked at Steve. "Orders remain the same. Chase after him, both of you, try to direct him to the arc reactor. If he catches on, get the hell out of the way of any damage Kitty might do if she fights back."

"I can walk," Sharon protested, trying to get out of Steve's grip. "I'm fine, you need Steve with you."

"Orders remain the same," Bucky snapped. Or maybe it was the Soldier. At that point, it didn't matter. "It won't take him long to knock that thing out, and you need someone who can get you away from him quickly if you can't calm him down. Steve can sprint faster than you. Now go, all of you."

He didn't give them a chance to argue, ducking under Sharon's legs, between Steve and Maria, avoiding having to shove anyone out of his way. The rubble of the hole the Hulk made slowed him down only slightly as he took off for the school as fast as he could.

The walls were blackening as he tore past the kitchen, through the ruined cafeteria, and down the hall to the door to the basement. He heard footsteps behind him. Steve's. The Soldier grabbed the doorknob to the basement door, half turned, and pointed towards the front door, now modified to fit an angry Hulk. "Go!" he snapped, not giving Steve a chance to argue.

Steve didn't, still carrying a winded Sharon, barely gave the Soldier a glance. Good, prioritize Sharon and the other guy, prioritize taking the ghost down. Let the Soldier be the distraction.

He opened the door to the basement and headed down the stairs.

The little bitch wanted to threaten to kill him and hurt his team? Then she'd get to see the Soldier at full flame, and if he had to set fire to the building around them to get her and any of her cats that remained, to buy those precious minutes it'd take to get through that arc reactor's core, then he'd do it.

Around him, the building began to burn.


	22. Turn The Beauty Into The Beast

The basement was a nightmare of flickering light and shocks of energy from the wires over head. Down the side to the Soldier's right, the cheery yellow paint was blacking and peeling. Down the other side, the wires twisting and turning across the ceiling glowed and sparked.

He ran, hoping like hell that the sledgehammer really was still down in the circuit breaker room like he thought.

Overhead, the insulation on the wires burned away, dropping in hot chunks around him. The heat was stifling, but he ran anyway.

That sledgehammer better damn well be there.

He braced one foot up against the inside of the door frame as he reached the end of the hall, stopping his forward momentum and transferring it to the side, into the room.

The exposed wires in the hole he'd made when they first arrived at the school glowed so white that the Soldier's HUD in his goggles had to adjust, did in seconds, filtering and dimming the light. But not fast enough. He was still light blinded, blinking rapid fire under the protective bullet proof glass.

He groped for where the sledgehammer had been last he knew, left resting against a wall; his hand closed around the wooden handle as his vision cleared. The Soldier stepped forward into a wide stance, then swung the hammer as hard as he could. He hoped his aim wasn't off- if it was, he gave the ghost precious seconds to resist the attack -when he swung the hammer into the bright mess of wires.

When he felt the hammer hook something, he yanked back, side-stepping to get out of the way as wires were strained to the breaking point, resisted the force behind his swing, then snapped like thread pulled too tight, spraying sparks everywhere. Inside the wires, a little girl's voice shrieked.

The Soldier crouched, raising his left arm instinctively to protect the rest of him from the onslaught. He felt his arm pulse with an excess of energy, burning up into his stump. The pain was horrific, but not enough to stop him. Not enough to make him pause more than to back out of the way of further damage. His arm tingled from the raw exposure, then the computers inside readjusted. He rotated his arm once to make sure it worked.

It did. Good.

The glow from the wires at the base of the hole fell limp, the lines going dead, but the wires on top spat and sputtered, then sprang to life. The light shifted, moved upwards, moved out of the room.

Upstairs. The Soldier had to guess at her strategy. Surely she felt the damage from the arc reactor being decimated. Most of her attention had to be there. But she seemed insistent on playing games with the Soldier while she was at it. Perhaps distracting him from what she was doing out there.

Clever, but nothing you could do could harm the Hulk, little girl. You wanna play? We'll play.

The Soldier ran out of the room, the sledgehammer tightly in his grip, just under the head where the balance was best, followed the spark down the hall and back up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, the door had been shut. He didn't bother to see if Kitty had melted the lock, it wouldn't stop him either way. He didn't even pause as he pushed open the door, sending it flying across the hall.

To his left, the spark hesitated. One second too long. Whatever the ghost was deciding, she was taking too long to make that decision, because the Soldier wasn't going to let her take her fire and damage up to the living space. There were things of personal value to his team.

Swinging the hammer like a bat, the Soldier sunk the hammer's head into the wall, above the spark, and pulled down and back towards himself. The wires snapped, cutting Kitty off from the west wing dormitories. The scream she let loose made the nerves in his teeth jangle, a child literally getting murdered.

Too bad, kid, you were given a chance to prove yourself a good kid. You decided to issue death threats and try to follow up on them. Bad move.

The brightest spark jumped, landed next to him, catching the rug on fire. There were fire extinguishers in the building, the fire could be put out later, but it wasn't as important as keeping Kitty from focusing all her attention on the arc reactor.

The lights inside were flashing like lightning in a dark room. Down towards the front of the school, the ceiling was lit up from the sun outside, and down the other way, the light came in the cafeteria walls. But there in the middle, it was dim, just enough for the flickering to be a bother to his HUD.

But not enough to hide Kitty.

The bright spark he assumed was her at this point flew past him in the floor, the carpet going up in flames in her wake. The wallpaper in the hall was melting, leaving behind plaster that blackened and warped from the heat.

She was trying too hard, too hard to make herself look a threat. Her spark was dimmer than it had been downstairs. The arc reactor must be finally shutting down. Kitty's waning power was getting thrown into fancy pyrotechnics and nothing truly threatening.

The Soldier wasn't the sort to fall for her show and let her go. He was going to keep her right there, unable to divert her full attention to the Hulk. That reactor had to be almost toast by now, unless the Hulk was getting too distracted by something else to give it his full attention.

Since this transformation was provoked and not done on purpose, that was possible, and worrying. Neither Steve nor Sharon would survive getting close enough to that thing to shut it down if Kitty had enough of her attention focused on protecting her power source. It had to be the Hulk to take it down.

Which just meant that the Soldier had to keep Kitty _very_ busy, perhaps force her to pull back to deal with him, giving whoever was left out there a chance to cut the power. If things went pear shaped out there, it'd be up to him inside to give the others a chance to regroup.

The Soldier caught up with the ball of electricity setting things aflame, got ahead of it, and slammed down the hammer, through the floor, grabbing the wires again. He'd break off all her accesses to the school if he had to.

Kitty made that horrible noise again, but the wires didn't snap under the force of his upswing, instead ripped up from under the floorboards, up the distant wall by the front door. The wires pulled free, wrapping around themselves and flying back to the Soldier.

That's better. This way, you little bitch.

He swung the hammer like a baseball bat, catching the wires in their loop. The wires moved with the hammer, crackling and tearing apart to tangle around his left arm.

Electricity traveled lightning fast up his arm, into his stump, up his shoulder, down his side, up into his face and brain. He screamed, swinging the hammer wide again to try to pull out from the wires' grip, to stop the pain, to get free before something was more permanently damaged and pulled him from the fight.

He dug the head of the hammer under the wires attached to his arm, pulling them away even as the pain jackhammered up every nerve and wire connection in his arm. The wires broke free, leaving his arm dead, heavy and limp at his side. His muscles recovered quickly, his brain quicker.

He let go of the hammer just enough to get a one handed grip on it, ready to greet the wires that shook and convulsed, then lifted again with all the force he could muster from his right arm.

Something grabbed his arm behind him and he jerked the handle of the hammer backwards. The butt of the handle was met with resistance, hitting something solidly, something that yelled a coherent 'hey!' The grip on his arm tightened at the contact, a squeeze that would've shattered a normal man's bones. Fortunately, the Soldier's were not that easy to break.

The Soldier yanked himself to the side, wrenching his arm free, ready to face whatever threat- a human threat, unless Kitty had learned to yell 'hey' in Steve's voice.

Wait.

Steve.

"Where's Sharon?" the Soldier demanded.

"Gimme the hammer," Steve said, not answering the question. In front of them, the loose wires waved around as if the ghost inside was having a seizure, but tried to find a target, groping around blindly and spraying sparks. Steve's hand was held out for the hammer and he was ignoring the blood dripping from his nose.

Damnit, the metal arm was out of commission, that meant Steve had a better chance at getting a potentially finishing blow on the ghost. The Soldier obeyed the order, tossed the hammer to Steve and backed out of the way of any wide swings or spewing electricity. His flesh hand moved to pull his metal arm up, to relieve some of the pull on his muscles from the weight of the fried computers and thick biomechtium.

Instead of using the Soldier's technique of ripping apart wires, Steve chose to twist the wires around the hammer's wooden handle, snaking the hammer around, under, and over Kitty's attempts at getting to flesh. Once the wires were pulled tight, Steve turned and threw the hammer back, through the large hole that the Hulk made in the front door.

The wires that had pulled out from the wall to attack the Soldier were yanked tight, pulled more out of the ceiling then finally broke and flew out the door, the dangling pieces left behind hanging. They weren't spitting any sparks anymore.

With the loud crackling gone, the charge of electricity in the air fading, and the immediate appearance of danger gone, the Soldier was able to just make out the noise outside of the Hulk, farther from the building than where the arc reactor was. He heard the quinjet's engines almost right overhead. A look above him confirmed that the quinjet was right over the front driveway. He wondered if the plans outside had changed to include immediate evacuation.

Over the roar of the jet's engines, he heard the Hulk getting louder, until he appeared from beyond the front drive, leaping high enough to be flying as he landed on the quinjet's nose.

It occurred to the Soldier to turn on his comm; the others hadn't had a chance to hand theirs to him before the attack in the training center; they might have theirs on and activated. Maybe hearing what they were saying would clue him in to just what the fuck was going on.

"Send him as far as you can, Maria," Steve said, close to his side and right in his ear.

"It won't be far," Maria replied.

The quinjet bobbed and spun back and forth as the Hulk ripped up pieces of the front hull, tore the revolver cannons off and tossed them. Maria flew the jet higher despite the oncoming danger of the Hulk's destruction. A lump formed in the Soldier's gut.

"All right, Bruce," he heard Maria mutter in his ear. "Time to go somewhere else for awhile."

All four of the quinjet's AIM-54Bs fired, digging into the Hulk's ribs and pulling him off the quinjet. The Hulk didn't like that, grabbing the top two missiles and yanking them in half, leaving only the two lower ones to accelerate him away.

He was lost to the trees somewhere before the sounds of the other two missiles exploding reached them.

The Soldier's adrenaline levels dropped like a carnival ride, slamming downward, then elevated again, but only a little. He looked around again, looking for signs of Kitty in what wires remained in the walls while Maria landed the damaged quinjet in the front drive.

Enemy neutralized. All that remained was the localized small fires that they could tend to.

Fires that could wait until after Bucky had a chance to take back over and demand what the hell just happened, and more importantly, make sure Maria was all right.

He didn't run, but his steps were brisk as he headed out the remodeled front door to the quinjet. The hatch opened, metal straining and groaning in protest, and Maria stepped out, heading back for the house.

Bucky met her more than halfway there, grabbed her up in a one armed hug, holding her tightly enough against him that she squeaked like a dog toy from the pressure. He put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back a step, on the verge of shaking her. "What the hell were you doing?" he demanded. "He could've killed you!"

Maria wrenched her shoulder free from his hand. "I know," she said. "It wasn't my first choice."

She didn't seem hurt. Upset that he questioned her, with some unsteadiness to her voice, like the fear was finally given a chance to show, no longer shoved aside for the mission.

Okay, Maria was okay. He knew where Steve was. Bruce was off somewhere in the woods.

"Where's Sharon?"

"I'm right here," Sharon replied, walking out of the quinjet behind Maria. There was an angry red line across her throat, blistered and almost glowing in the sunlight. A second degree burn, if he had to guess.

"Are you all right?"

Her response was a careful nod, walking up to join Bucky and Maria. Steve had walked over to Bucky's side at some point while he was focused on his girlfriend's safety. "I'm fine," she said, walking over to stand by the others. "I'm more resilient than you might think."

Bucky turned his head to look at Steve. "All right, who gets to tell me what the hell just happened?"

"Bruce didn't purposely call a Code Green," Steve said, something Bucky already knew and had guessed at the consequences thereof. "He's almost impossible to direct when he's triggered against his wil- what happened to your arm?"

Bucky glanced down at his arm that he was cradling against his chest. "Deadweight," he said. "She overstressed the computers."

Steve frowned, then put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Tony can fix it," he said as a matter of fact, as if unwilling to believe otherwise. Stupid idiot.

"Is the arc reactor dead?" Bucky asked, setting that issue aside as he tilted slightly to drop Steve's hand off his dead shoulder. Steve kept his grip firm. Damnit.

"It is," Sharon said. "We had to get out of the way. That thing was too dangerous for us to get near. We went back to the quinjet, and Steve came back here to help you."

Bucky looked up at Steve. His nose had stopped bleeding. "You're lucky that nosebleed is all you got," he snapped. "I could've busted your nose with that thing. Why'd you come back instead of staying with the girls? If the arc reactor was dying, I could handle things fine here."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Says the guy who lost use of an entire limb," he said. He took in an angry breath. "I couldn't leave my partner here alone. We had a plan set up to get the Hulk away safely, I wasn't needed there. I was here."

His partner. The adrenaline crashed part of Bucky's brain wanted to cry tears of relief at those words. But it had to be put off until later. There was still work to do.

Considering parts of the building were on fire and all.

"Fire extinguishers," Bucky said, putting everything else aside and pointing to areas that had caught fire, mostly along the hallway floor where the wires had been torn up. The heat from the flames and the overworked wires made the threat of the walls catching fire very real, and he was sure there was fire down in the basement.

The fires weren't widespread, sharp flames here and there, but the heat leftover in the walls and floor made the possibility of more igniting. The broken open windows and the breezy new doors in both the front and the back should let the heat disperse to the outside, preferably before anything caught or decided to make an encore appearance. It'd take awhile to fully cool down in there, with the hot summer air and now no working anything, much less an air conditioner, to hurry that process along.

Bucky was forced to step back and allow the others to gather up the fire extinguishers from their various hiding places. He couldn't work one, not with a dead arm. He stepped back outside, away from the fires, moving to examine the damaged quinjet while the other three put out the flames.

The nose was a mess of squished metal; it was a wonder Maria survived sitting in the cockpit, just feet away from that. Bucky grit his teeth, stamping down the urge to go yell at all three of them for a stupid plan that needlessly exposed them to danger.

But he'd be a hypocrite, and what was done was something that had to be done, and Maria had been the best to do it.

Be reasonable.

Oh shut up.

He evaluated the condition of the rest of the quinjet. The metal in the entire hull looked compromised from the force of the Hulk landing on it and pulling at pieces. It might very well not fly again, not without some big repairs. Repairs they had no way of doing there.

Sigh.

"Bucky?"

Bucky turned at Steve's voice, the light settings on his HUD adjusting to allow him to see Steve in the ruined atrium better. "What?"

"Fires are mostly out," Steve said. "Come on in, we'll go into the medical center and see if Bruce had any slings we can put your arm in so it's not just hanging."

He wasn't reacting to Bucky's uniform- full mask and goggles and everything -the way he had before. His concern was real, his expression holding nothing resembling animosity or even hesitancy. The Soldier dressed in his full uniform was now just Bucky.

It took all of us nearly getting killed to put that through your head, Steve? Boy, you're thick.

But fine, Bucky would go with it for now. There was still more to talk about- the Soldier had to hear Steve explicitly accept him as part of this package deal, or else that mistrust that haunted below the surface would stay there.

But for now, things were normal, so Bucky pushed the Soldier back into the scar in his mind where he belonged and followed Steve back in. "Did Junior get ahold of JARVIS before we wrecked the jet?" he asked, stealing a glance back at the jet before heading down that dimmer hall to the dark doctor's office. It seemed Kitty hadn't done anything to the medical center.

Bucky stepped into the room after Steve and then slid over away from the door to allow in as much light as possible for Steve to search by.

"Sharon said she did," Steve said. "I hadn't activated my comm yet. Kinda afraid of it getting fried under my skin." He was searching drawers and cabinets, moving things aside, while he spoke. "And Maria kept on Junior to keep trying to reach the Tower. She was having trouble with the mess going on with the electricity." He stopped searching, looking around. "I can't find anything. It's too dark."

Bucky pulled off his goggles and held them out. "There's a night vision setting on the HUD," he said. "Might help."

Steve looked at the offered goggles. "Those are yours," he said.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Whose?"

The angry frustration from earlier was gone when Steve let a soft sigh out. "I know we have more talking to do. But that uniform belongs to my partner. That includes those, and you probably know better how to use them than I do."

Good answer, Steve. We'll work the details over once we're safe, somewhere that has electricity that isn't going to eat them.

"Yeah, and I only have one arm to search with. Just take them, Steve. It's only for a few minutes."

Steve looked ready to protest again, but whatever that protest was died before it formed words, and Steve simply took the goggles. "How do these work?" he asked, taking off his helmet to pull them on.

"Intuitively," Bucky said, refusing to say how silly Steve looked in them. "Not as sophisticated as our comms, but there's really not any buttons to push."

Steve handed his helmet over to Bucky to free up his other hand for searching. Out in the hallways, he could still hear the sounds of fire extinguishers, one fading away, the other passing directly by. He looked out to see Maria layering more cold spray on the rug that, while no longer on fire, posed risk of catching again as long as the heat remained.

He looked back at Steve. "So the house is trashed and we have no power."

Steve only took a second to look over his shoulder at Bucky, then went back to searching. "We're gonna have to leave, yeah. Ah, here we go." He pulled out a sling from a cabinet in the corner, and walked over to Bucky. "Go ahead and set my helmet on the counter. I need your help getting this on you."

The Soldier had heard just enough to be willing to let Bucky comply without an argument, and he did as he was told, grabbing his metal arm's wrist and pulling it up to settle in the sling once it was over his head and positioned correctly.

"What do you think?"

Bucky looked at the sling, mentally assessing how much weight that took off his flesh shoulder and the muscles where metal met flesh. "It'll work until we can get someone to fix it."

"We'll find someone," Steve said said, taking off the goggles. He traded Bucky's goggles for his own helmet. "Tony will probably fly back personally." He leaned around Bucky's shoulder, looking into the hallway. "Got any ideas on where to go from here? It might be awhile before help arrives, we can't stay in a partially demolished building with no electricity."

Bucky almost argued, almost pointed out _again_ that Steve had to make the final call, but he mentally put duct tape over the mouth of the part of his brain that wanted to make that argument. He hadn't been told to make the decision, he was just asked for ideas. That's acceptable.

"Hotel, I guess," Bucky said. "We still have the BMW, we can pack up enough clothes for a couple days, grab the stuff we can't replace, like your sketchbooks, and head to a town to stay the night. We'll use the account that Junior controls to leave a footprint for Tony to follow. We'll wanna get farther away from here than the town Sharon's been going to. Head down to Ithaca, maybe. That's out there a bit."

Steve was silent a moment, then nodded. "We'll do that then. You have stuff at Maria's place, right? She can help you pack if you need it. I can get my sketchbooks. Want me to grab your notebooks from the lounge?"

The notebooks. There were a couple in that pile of well-worn notebooks that held more than just his work. More that Steve needed to see, maybe help rebuild the bridge between them. "Yeah, please? Got some stuff I can't redo in them." That was all he would say on that.

"You got it. Anything in the work room?"

Bucky shook his head. "No, Tony can get that stuff if it's still up there. Just those notebooks."

"All right," Steve said, then tapped his comm behind his ear- completely unnecessary, but it seemed they both had that habit still. "Girls, how're the fires coming?"

"The basement's not burning anymore," Sharon said. "But it's really hot down here. I think we should pack up and get out of here as quickly as possible."

"I agree," Maria said. "But I'm not sure that quinjet's gonna get us anywhere we can land."

"Way ahead of you," Steve said. "Bucky suggested taking the BMW to Ithaca, pick a hotel. Tony can track where we've gone if we use that dummy account he gave us to pay for that. I think it's a good idea."

"Definitely not a bad one, but I may have to go hide the quinjet again," Maria said. "There was a lot of noise and explosions going on around here, if anyone was nosy, the first thing they'd see would be it and that might compromise us."

"While you're out there, download Junior's UI to your phone if you can," Bucky said. "Remove her entirely. If anyone finds the quinjet, they're gonna find a ruined piece of metal that they can't do anything with. Junior won't be there to run her."

There was a brief pause, including an odd look from Steve, as if he was surprised how good of an idea that might actually be. Oh shut up, Steve.

"I will," Maria said. "Bucky, can you pack for me while I do that? I think it's safe enough now for us to pack and get out before anything might catch again."

"Will do, pretty lady," Bucky said. He looked at Steve. "Find me a spare bag for my uniform and weapons, please? I got enough pieces that we'll be overstuffing the one we have. It'd just be easier to have one for each of us. Speaking of, we should get out of these. It's going to be obvious who we are if we all showed up at a hotel in uniform. We're supposed to be laying low."

Steve nodded once, looking contemplative, which turned into a frown. "It's going to be dark in the rooms. I don't think Tony left anything we can use in a power outage. The arc reactor wasn't supposed to fail."

Maria had an answer to that. "I have a stun gun and a weather radio that both have flashlights on them. We'll take turns changing and packing. Bucky and I will take one, Steve can take the other, then whoever gets done first can pass theirs to Sharon."

"I'll keep an eye on the hot spots," Sharon said. "Should we pack a bag for Bruce, in case he catches up?"

Bucky shook his head, purely out of habit- nobody could see it except Steve, so it wasn't a helpful answer. "He'll probably find his way back here, he'll need clothes here. If not, Tony can take something with him for when he finally tracks him down. Just leave Bruce's things." He looked at Steve. "Leave my bag for my uniform in the hall. After Maria and I are done changing, I'll stick my uniform in there."

"I'll probably get done before you," Steve said. "I'll put our money in your bag. If we need it, it'd be easier to get to without potentially exposing a recognizable weapon."

"Good idea."

"Where are you two?" Sharon asked, interrupting them.

"Medlab," Steve said. Then realization dawned on his face. "I'll grab something to treat that burn before I go upstairs."

"Thank you," Sharon said. "It's starting to really hurt."

Hm. "Maria, you know some basic field first aid, right?" Bucky asked.

"I do," she said. "I'll take Sharon to the cafeteria where there's light and get it treated and wrapped. Bucky's already packing for me, I can do that, then go take care of the jet."

"Anything that can't be replaced I need to pack for you?" Bucky asked. "Photo albums?"

"No, nothing like that," Maria said. "I asked Tony to pass those to my father in case we didn't have time to fully pack back up when we got called out of here. Sharon?"

"I have a photograph of Aunt Peggy I can't replace, but I'll pack that when I get up there," she said.

"One last question from me," Bucky said. "Maria, where are those flashlights?"

"My nightstand," she said. "Top drawer, my side of the bed."

"Then we're all set," Steve said. "Let's get this done and get out of here."

"No arguments from me," Bucky said, heading back out into the hall and towards the dorms.

Steve stopped him with a hand on his flesh shoulder. Bucky looked back at him. "I know there's more to talk about," he said quietly. "But I want to say now that I'm sorry. For a lot of things."

Bucky moved his arm to clasp Steve's forearm. "Later," he said. "Get my notebooks, please."

Dropping his arm, Steve glanced back towards the door up to the lounge. "What about your Dresden books?"

"No," Bucky said, shaking his head. "That's more to pack than we need to do right now. And if it comes to it, Peter probably would love the chance to replace them. He was running out of books to throw at me."

Steve laughed, shaking his head. "Your brother's something else. All right, just the notebooks. I'll catch up to you upstairs for that flashlight after I'm done down here."

"Meet you there."

They split up to start packing.


	23. Along The Dusty Boulevard

Bucky was forced to don his only long-sleeved shirt to hide his metal arm and a glove until they were safely in a hotel room and not where it'd give their presence away, which was exactly what it'd been packed for in the first place. It still felt cruel, after he spent an afternoon fighting the electrical system and then trying to prep for departure with a dead arm.

At least the BMW had air conditioning.

Under his shirt sleeve was a cold pack that rapidly becoming a tepid pack on his port. The conductivity of his metal arm had led to the intense heat from Kitty's attacks causing a mild first degree burn around the port itself. He'd argued that he didn't need it, not with his healing factor, but Steve had replied with 'humor me', a statement backed up by Maria, followed by Sharon saying she refused to suffer burn treatments alone.

Buncha ungrateful bullies.

The only two of the four of them that could drive just then were Steve and Maria. The burn on Sharon's neck made turning her head and pulling on that skin painful, and while she could do it, it didn't make sense to make her when there were two other eligible drivers.

Not that Bucky believed Sharon could do it, not after the force of that electrical energy she took. She probably felt like shit warmed over.

As for Bucky's usefulness, he had a dead arm. Not useful at all.

So he found himself sitting in the back, Maria in front of him at the wheel, and Steve playing navigator in the passenger seat. Beside him was Sharon, gauze and the same self-adhesive tape around her neck that Bruce had put on Maria's burn on her head. Bucky hated being in the back seat, hated not seeing what was coming on ahead, and it was hard to watch their back from a buckled position.

At least he had good company.

He amused himself after the first few miles away by flopping his hand and fingers that hung out of his cast. Nothing. No sensation of artificial nerves firing, feedback from computers, nothing. It was disconcerting, and he couldn't stop fiddling with it. It was a trainwreck that had left him partly crippled.

A soft touch on his other arm accompanied by an equally soft voice saying 'hey' drew his attention over to his seat mate.

Sharon took his flesh hand away from playing with his dead artificial one. "You know that's only going to make you feel worse," she said, voice quieted to only be understood in the back seat.

Bucky looked down at his metal arm. "I know," he said. He shook his head. "I was careless." He looked over and motioned to her throat. "If I'd been paying attention, that wouldn't have happened."

Sharon touched the bandages lightly, but not lightly enough to prevent a wince, for which he sighed and took his turn at pulling her hand away from an injury. He kept hold of her hand to keep her from doing that again.

"Maybe," she said. "We all wanted to make excuses for her, not just you. She was a child, none of us wanted to believe she'd make that kid from Silent Hill look nice." She turned her hand in his just a bit to grip his tightly. "You took care of us. You protected us. Just like you wanted, just like the Soldier wanted."

Bucky snorted. "I don't think the Soldier 'wants' anything but to complete his mission." He looked down at their hands, then- after a quick, if pointed, glance at his arm -then once again motioned towards her, still holding her hand. "And this mission was a failure. I sent you to try to control something that couldn't be instead of getting everyone to safety and worrying about the school itself later."

He looked at the front seat for signs of the two up there listening in. Maria was probably paying more attention to the road, but Steve might be eavesdropping.

"Bucky? You're being too hard on yourself," Sharon said. "You did what you could with what you had. We didn't exactly have the upper hand in there. And you were in far more danger than any of us. Stop taking on everything yourself and trust us to help."

Bucky desperately wanted to tap his finger. "It's not that I don't trust you-"

"-it's that you're used to the people around you being there to keep you in line while you do the mission yourself," she interrupted. "How right am I?"

He didn't want to admit to that. But she was right. He looked at the back side of Steve's head, willing him to not be listening in. If Maria could hear his answer, right in front of him, that was fine. Her, he could deal with. He wasn't ready for Steve to hear his answers yet.

If there were any forthcoming in his brain.

"Your silence tells me I'm pretty right," Sharon said, when his brain failed to produce words that could get past his throat. "We never should've put you in a position to go back into a Hydra lab. That was on us."

Bucky shook his head. "No, I agreed to it. Someone had to go there, someone with a ghost of a chance to get those files away from them and prevent another Winter Soldier. Nobody wants another me around, trust me on that."

She raised her eyebrows. "Another brainwashed Winter Soldier, no," she agreed. "But you, the Winter Soldier now, you're not too bad to be around."

He snorted. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." Then he looked out the window, trying to find more words. They were there, they wanted out, but they were having trouble translating from the feelings and images that were spawning them.

After a moment, he took a breath, deciding he had enough to try. "I may be more Bucky the farther I get away from Hydra," he said. "I may even have taken the Soldier away from them fully, or at least until Palestine." He shook his head "But I can't get away from Howard. From Eva Volkov. From Nick Fury. From Natasha." He swallowed, his throat trying to constrict and disallow that guilty act. "From Steve. That's all guilt I can't get away from. I don't even want another _former_ Winter Soldier. Nobody should have to carry that shit."

For the longest few seconds in history, Sharon didn't answer but to give his hand a comforting squeeze. "Maybe not," she said. "But you've still turned out to be an amazing man that we're all honored to call family. Even Steve, even while you two were fighting. I talked to him a lot while you were hiding behind Maria and your work. He cried over you a lot. Threw things a lot. He knew part of you got left behind at Hydra and he couldn't figure out how to help you out."

Bucky stared at Steve's head from his eight, wishing to beat him with just the power of his brain. Then he finally looked back at Sharon. "Because he saw the Soldier as part of Hydra, rather than me."

"I did my best to explain, but that really wasn't something I could convince him of," she admitted.

Bucky huffed, blew too long bangs out of his face. "He's a damn hypocrite. The Soldier's only stuck back in Hydra because Steve refuses to get up and leave the lab with him. That was our part of the mission. Get Steve out of there safe and alive. Steve won't get out of there as long as all he sees of me is Hydra. And that leaves me stuck. I know the way out, I know I do. He doesn't. He won't follow me."

Sharon looked at the front seat, at Maria, then at Steve ahead of her. "Have you told him that? In those words?"

"Never had a chance," Bucky said. "We're usually already fighting because the Soldier comes up and Steve loses his damn mind." His voice lowered as his gaze dropped back down to his dead hand. "Might be able to now, I got him calmed down a bit. And he called me his partner. Full uniform and everything. So there's a chance."

"There never wasn't," Sharon said. "He's missed you like crazy. He loves you dearly, Bucky. Enough that quite frankly, if you two decided you're not as straight as you thought, I'd happily back off, because between you two is not where I belong. And yes, I got that from Maria. We both would step back."

Bucky couldn't help the exasperated smile and the eye roll towards the roof of the car. "Believe me, you don't have to worry about that. Those jokes are just that, jokes."

"I know," Sharon said, giving him a soft smile. "And Maria knows too. I was just saying that's how much you're loved. There was never not a chance to repair things. You both mean too much to each other. You've both had a chance to get a quiet discussion in, you slept on the couches together, you baked him a pink cupcake for his birthday. And he ran into a burning building to help you. I think the blocks are being laid back down on the foundation. You'll be fine."

Bucky made a grumbling noise. "That was not pink. It was red."

That soft smile turned into a wide grin. "Bucky? That was pink. If I'd known you were going to need an actual red food dye, I would've tried to find a more professional grade bottle. But that stuff was pink."

He flashed her a dirty look. She returned it with that same wide smile that looked way too amused for her own good.

If his metal hand worked at all, he'd flip her off. But since it didn't, and she had a firm grip on his flesh hand, he couldn't, and had to settle for another dirty look. "You and Steve are perfect for each other," he said. "You're both punks."

That grin once again toned it down to that softer smile. "And you're a jerk, according to him. He says that's an old exchange. Don't pull me in on it, that's for you two." Then she laced her fingers with his. "Seriously though, talk to him. We get to this hotel, I'm not letting you throw him at me. Maybe if we have to stay more than one night, I'll see if I can't lure him into my trap, but at least the first night, you two have a lot of talking to do and I think you both need to be close to each other again. Talk to him. Say these things to him. He's missed you so much."

She let go of his hand. "And with that, I'm done lecturing. And that cupcake was still pink."

He glared, taking in an annoyed breath, counting to three, then releasing it. "You know, Sharon, if looks could kill..."

"Then I'd still be alive because you like me too much to do that to me," she said. "Now go back to brooding. You have a lot to think about."

"I do not brood," he protested, but he did take the invitation to disentangle himself from the conversation and tune things out for awhile. He was tired. Not physically, not from fighting, anyway. But mental exhaustion, emotional exhaustion from the last forever, it was taking its toll, and he felt achy and bruised, like he'd been hit with a baseball bat until even his muscles protested the abuse. He wanted sleep. He wanted his medicine, and he wanted this all to be over before he lost his damn mind.

Tune things out now. Deal with them later.

Good idea. That includes you.

Is that a mission?

Shut up and do it.

His mind quieted back down to its normal dance of images and feelings and the occasional burst of color and stray note of music here and there. It was weird, it didn't feel natural. At least, it didn't feel like it _should_ be natural, but it'd been so long ingrained that he couldn't remember how to think in any other way.

God, it'd be nice if people could just see into his brain so he didn't have to try to translate that complicated mess into words. Of course, if anyone else saw the random shit that floated around his brain like a nebula of really ugly space dust, they'd probably be even more confused by it than when he tried to make it make sense in words. Sometimes he really wanted a normal brain again. One that hadn't been scrambled by chemicals and electric shocks and programming.

Sharon didn't bother him further on the trip, making it a long and quiet one from upstate down to Ithaca. It wasn't as long as it seemed, not according to the map, but the silence and the time to get lost in his own head made it seem to take forever. He contemplated napping, but he didn't feel they were safe enough for him to until they were at a hotel and in contact with Tony.

Junior had contacted JARVIS back at the school, so he and Tony were on standby, Tony probably pacing, wherever he was at the time. Bucky hoped he was on his way back to at least the Tower. Faster for him to come take care of Bucky's arm than if he were still in Iran somewhere.

Bucky couldn't relax until his arm was fixed and there were clearer plans than "hide in that hotel awhile." He'd really prefer a plan that didn't involve them hiding any longer, but he also knew his teammates needed at least a short break before they ran headlong into the Middle East.

Things to discuss with Tony.

The empty spot between himself and Sharon reminded Bucky that somewhere out there, probably not far from the school, Bruce was probably already back to his senses and completely lost. That probably wasn't an uncommon problem for Bruce, and Bucky knew his friend could find his own way home, but it sat uncomfortably on his stomach that they'd left him behind. The other guy hadn't given them much choice in that matter.

Another thing to discuss with Tony. Tony might have a way of tracking him and getting him back to civilization.

Bucky had gone back to playing with the fingers of his dead arm by the time they got to Ithaca, his brain trying to make up for his inability to do his usual nervous tapping. He figured that was a good thing; that tapping tended to drive people crazy, and with as pulled tight as they all felt, it probably wouldn't have gone over well.

In the name of minimizing their online presence until Bucky could get them on a secure line to the Tower, Maria was forced to stop at a gas station an ask for directions to a decent hotel.

Once she returned and before even starting the car, she half turned in her seat to put her list where it could be seen by them all. "There's a Hampton, a Best Western, a Country Inn and Suites, or we could go higher pricing. We can afford better, but I don't think we want to stand out that much. We're going to look funny enough, with how much we all need showers."

To wipe off soot and dirt and treat minor burns and other injuries, yes, that might make them stand out.

"I think you're right on those," Steve said, then leaned farther over the list that was more facing the back. "I see a couple crossed off already."

"I decided we could do better than a Motel 8," Maria said, her tone too tired to be as deadpan as it sounded like she wanted to be.

"Motel 8s have terrible bathrooms anyway," Sharon said. "And we'd really stand out with a nice BMW going to a pit like that."

"Rather my thought," Maria said.

Sharon took the list, leaving the others to wait on her patiently- or impatiently, take your pick -while she made their decision for them. After a moment of deliberation, she handed the list back to Maria. "I say Hampton Inn. We've been in those before, we know they're good and affordable."

"Good point," Maria said, handing the list to Steve. "The addresses are on the back with directions. You're navigator." She started the car while he took it and looked over Maria's writing in the next few pages of her small notebook she kept in her purse.

The hotel, it turned out, required some back tracking, passing scenery that Bucky had already seen; it didn't provide any sense of familiarity, but at least he didn't feel lost.

The hotel itself did the same; hotel chains didn't tend to vary building and room design too much, as allowed by the surrounding area, so the Hampton Inn looked very much like the one they'd stayed at in DC, just before they were offered the Palestine contract.

Why hello, bad memories, how are you doing? Enough of your shit right now. Showers, food, and naps are required at this point, not brooding over a goddamn hotel.

But before all those things, contacting Tony. Once they had rooms, of course.

"We need two rooms, preferably close to each other," Maria said at the front desk once they were inside. The other three and their bags surrounded her, everyone in a state of disarray that probably made the desk clerk feel a bit alarmed.

But he did his job- and bravo to him for not showing any reaction he might've had to their haggard group -and immediately went to his computer. "I have two rooms on the sixth floor," he said. "They're next to each other, six two three, and six two one. That floor is no smoking, but is pet friendly. Neither of those rooms have microwaves, but there's a very small fridge in them to hold drinks and such. Both rooms have one king-sized bed. I have better rooms, but those two are the only ones I have right next to each other that aren't reserved or currently in use."

"That'll be fine," Maria said. "We're hopefully not staying long. How much?"

"It'll be one-eighty for one night for both rooms."

That didn't even seem to faze Maria, who was already digging in her purse for her wallet. "Are those rooms open for a second day, just in case?"

"Let me check," the desk man said. He tapped at his keyboard a couple times. "They are, but at that point, we'd prefer that both nights be paid for at the same time, just to make sure they stay reserved for you."

"So three sixty?" Maria confirmed, then handed over her bank card for the dummy account Tony set up for them.

"That's correct, ma'am," he said, taking the card and swiping it. A long few seconds passed, Bucky wanting to pass out on the spot during them, then the silence was interrupted by the clerk. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this card declined."

Maria stared at him, then behind her at the others. "It- it did?" Her unspoken question was 'how'- Tony had assured them that the dummy account connected to one of his accounts, so money shouldn't be an issue.

Something occurred to Bucky and he held out his hand. "Your phone?"

Maria still looked dumbfounded, with worry starting to take it over as she handed over her phone. "We have money in there, don't we?"

Good job, make it sound like a normal panic and not an Avengers-level panic.

Bucky scrolled through her phone, trying to find where Junior had uploaded herself to. He couldn't find her; she might be offline, or her interface with the phone might be hiding somewhere where nobody else could find it. He handed the phone back over. "The banking system's down, it looks like," he said, confident that the others would figure out what he meant, then dropped his bag, crouching down next to it.

It was difficult to open with one arm, but he got the zipper open just enough to feel his fingers close around a smaller bag. "You guys still take cash, right?" he called up to the desk jockey.

"Yes, sir, we do."

Bucky struggled a second to pull out some money to count out, but the zippers on both bags weren't open far enough. "Fer fuck's sake," he muttered, putting his foot on one end of the larger bag. It held the bag still as he got the zipper pulled open a bit more- not too much, that had his uniform and weapons -enough for him to get to the smaller bag.

"Need help?" Steve offered.

Bucky grabbed the smaller bag and held one end with his teeth. "No," he said around the corner of the money bag, unzipping it further. He set it down and started rifling through the money until he found a few hundreds and some twenties.

Their cash was in all sorts of denominations and every time Steve messed around with it, he left the bills in an annoying array of random orders. Bucky would normally bitch at him for it, his sloppy habit making it difficult for him to get out the money, but it wasn't worth the fight then.

He handed the money up to Maria. "There. Count that, make sure I have enough." He clamped his hand around the top of the money bag to hide its contents from anyone passing by while Maria counted.

"A bit too much, actually," she said, starting to hand a twenty back to him.

He waved it off. "Call it a tip for him. He found us the rooms we need." He didn't feel like trying to get money back into that bag and it was only a twenty, he didn't care that much.

While the card keys were coded, Bucky packed the money back up and swung the bag over his shoulder. He grabbed the handle of his suitcase containing his regular wear and toiletries, and waited.

"Here are your cards," the clerk said, handing Maria a stack of four cards in those little slips that got damaged so easily that Bucky sometimes wondered why hotels bothered with them. "There's free breakfast every morning from six until nine-thirty. We have a fitness room on the second floor, along with a pool. We have a partnership with The Maui, it's a bar and restaurant located there just behind you. They open at ten and stay open until midnight. There are meeting rooms here on the first floor; they come with a charge for use, and an advance warning."

Bucky wanted the guy to shut up and let them just go to their rooms, but he knew it was the man's job, so he stayed quiet as the desk man continued.

"You'll find a discount on the delivery service in town connected to your keys. When you call them to pick up food from whatever restaurant in town you choose, give them the code on the back of your cards and it's ten percent off. In the rooms is the list of restaurants the delivery service will pick up from. There's free wifi, and of course an ethernet connection in each room, in case your device doesn't have a working wireless card. The information for getting online is also in the room."

An ethernet port. Good. Bucky could use that to secure a line to Tony easier than over the wifi. Letting the man finish turned out to be a good idea.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" the man asked, looking over all of them.

Maria looked at the others, and at the collective shaking of heads, she turned back to the man. "No, I think we're good."

"Excellent. Elevator is to your right, just around the corner. Vending machines and ice machines are on every level. Enjoy your stay."

Thank god, it was over. He was a short elevator trip away from getting to drop his shit and get on with things.

"I say we worry about picking which rooms are for which pair after we've talk to Tony," he said as the elevator dinged the floors by. "It's awhile before bed time needs to be worried about anyway."

"I agree," Maria said. "We'll just pick whichever one is closest to the elevator and drop our things."

"No arguments here," Steve said, "but contacting Tony raises a question. Are we sure we can? The dummy account was offline, we must've lost connection with him."

Bucky shook his head. "It's because Junior was offline. She shut down at the quinjet, and she's dormant in Maria's phone. I couldn't find anything to activate her. If we can, we'll transfer her to my tablet and get her woken up. Might make the call with Tony easier anyway. My tablet has a 3D image function, we wouldn't have to all crowd around over a smart phone on the table."

"I should be able to transfer her," Maria said. "If I can figure out where she hid herself in my phone."

The elevator dinged, and the group piled out, studying the signs directing them to which hallway had their rooms. A left turn, then another left, at the end of the hall. Two rooms, side by side. Six two one was closest to them, and after a second to sort out which keys went to that room, Maria got the door opened. It took a collective strength of willpower to not try to crowd into the room in one big pile of humans, and file in like civilized people instead.

The bags and suitcases were all deposited by the bed, Bucky holding back closer to the bathroom so he had room to get into his suitcase and find his tablet.

"Need help, Bucky?" Steve asked, walking over.

Bucky shook his head, paused to push his way too goddamn long hair back over his shoulder so it wasn't getting in his way while he dug through his stuff, haphazardly thrown in with only one hand to pack and a flashlight that had to be positioned awkwardly to be of any use. "I'm crippled, not helpless," he said, digging under clothes until he felt the tablet, hiding somewhere between a ziplock bag full of razors and other hygiene related products, and his clothes. He pulled it out, set it down, rezipped his suitcase, then grabbed his tablet off the floor and headed to the desk.

Maria was already sitting in the chair, playing with her phone. "I'm having trouble finding Junior," she said. "I hope her UI got fully downloaded."

"If she didn't, we might be in trouble," Bucky said, setting down his tablet. He peered at the ethernet outlet inches above the desk. He moved the lamp a bit to study it closer. "Fuck," he said, moving the lamp back with a sigh. "I don't have my tools."

"You said they were okay to leave behind," Steve pointed out, then walked over to lean over his shoulder. Damnit, Steve, stop that. "What were you going to do with them?"

Bucky ducked out from under Steve, trying to breathe fresh air instead of the smell of Steve's sweat and ash from the fires. "I was going to try to secure a line to JARVIS," he said.

"We're not even sure we _can_ contact JARVIS," Sharon said. "If we can't get Junior to load, then I'm not sure what to do."

"If we get desperate we can make a phone call and let JARVIS secure it, or give minimal information and let Tony just find us from wherever he is on his own."

Maria looked up from connecting her phone to Bucky's tablet. "Why is that desperation option only?"

Bucky pointed to the tablet. "It'd be a helluva lot easier to make a phone call where we can all take part, and hotel phones don't have speaker phone on them. We'd at least have that much on my tablet."

That didn't get any argument directly from Maria, who sighed, going back to digging in her phone. "We might have to resort to that desperation if I can't get Junior to transfer. Or even boot up. I might not have gotten all of her data downloaded. I don't know how big of a data pack her UI is compared to what I had on my phone. It's a Stark designed phone, specifically for Stark Industries and Avengers work, but we have that recording from the school, that might've interfered with Junior's ability to download."

Damn. He hadn't thought of that.

He looked at the others. "Okay, while Maria messes with that, Steve, can you take some ones down to vending and get us drinks? Sharon, help the one-armed guy sort through our stuff, get Steve's and my stuff separated from yours and Maria's. We'll sleep by genders tonight." He raised an eyebrow in Steve's direction, cutting off any relief he might show from that. There was still talking to do. "If we're here another night, I'll let you see if you can seduce Steve. Otherwise, same arrangements."

Sharon gave him a tired look. "I'm not sure I'd be in the mood to seduce, but if I can coax him into cuddles, I'll call it a win."

"And this is a conversation for later," Steve said, digging into Bucky's uniform bag where the money bag was kept. "Buck, there's ones in here, right?"

"Better be," Bucky answered. "If not, you can run downstairs and break a ten or something. I'll stay up here with the girls in case Junior downloads while you're gone."

"If she does, wait for me before you call T0ny."

Bucky glanced back at him. "Well, no shit, Steve. We have never left each other out of things like this, we're not starting now." Then he waved his good hand at Steve. "Now shoo, I want a damn soda."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm going. Fortunately for you, I remember everyone's preferences."

A decent wad of ones in his hand, he grabbed one of the key cards and headed out.

Bucky went back to watching the transfer.


	24. Banging On The Door Of An Angel

Bucky stared at his tablet, face propped up on his working hand. On the desk in front of him was the offending electronic, and he wasn't liking the information it was giving him. He tapped the screen a few times, hoping to elicit a more favorable response.

"That bad?" Maria said, looking over his shoulder. She'd surrendered the chair to him some time ago.

Bucky sighed, dropping his arm to rest on the table so he could bury his face in it. "That bad," he said. Without lifting his head, he pulled his arm free and slid his fingers inward on his screen from the corners, pulling out the 3D display. He sat up. The display showed a small pink ball made of computer interfaces and mechanical pieces. "See that? That's Junior."

"Junior's a pink glowing ball?" Steve asked, looking at the display from off to Bucky's right, though thankfully not crowding over his shoulder.

"That's what her interface looks like, given a physical appearance. And she's named after Tony's cat, did you expect something not pink? Junior's collar is pink."

"We've never had a chance to see Junior like this," Sharon said, one hand on the back of the chair Bucky sat in, her bottle of Mountain Dew still unopened in her other. "How do you know that's her?"

"Because she's almost identical to JARVIS," Bucky said. "JARVIS is bigger, and yellow. But we're missing pieces of Junior; either the transfer from the phone to my tablet didn't work, or the transfer from the quinjet to the phone didn't work. The plug might've been pulled too soon, or the phone wasn't big enough for her whole data packet, or something else all together." He sat up, leaning back slightly- taking care to not move the chair's support out from under Sharon's hand -and looked at Maria. "When did you download her? When you moved the quinjet, right?"

"That's right," Maria said. "She didn't seem damaged by the other guy's attempt to rip the quinjet apart. I followed her instructions. The jet's computers shut down after a few minutes, so I took that to mean that she was transferred. I probably should've tested her first, but I-" She cut herself off, rubbing her forehead. "I had no idea how to check for her, and I figured if she wasn't in the jet's computers anymore, then she was fully transfered."

Bucky nodded, acknowledging the statement, then sat forward again, twisting Junior's UI projection in his hand. "She might've gotten damaged in the quinjet. This might be all that's left of her." He heaved a sigh. "Well, I-" Like Maria had, he cut himself off. "Is it just me, or are those holes filling in?"

This time, he didn't mind as everyone crowded down around him.

"I think you're right," Sharon said. "Where are those pieces coming from?"

Bucky tapped at his tablet. "I didn't connect my tablet to the wifi, I know I didn't. But it says I'm connected." He looked at the projected UI, puzzled, until an answer finally presented itself in his brain. "I think she's downloading herself."

"But from where?" Maria asked, stepping aside just enough to get a different look at the projected image.

"From me, Miss Hill," JARVIS's voice cut in. His yellow projected image took dominance over the display, Junior's image shrinking to the side as the holes continued filling in. "When you contacted me that there was trouble at the school, I put Mister Stark on standby. He instructed me to download a copy of Junior into my databanks in case something happened to the quinjet. Your phone, as it turns out, is not big enough for her. I am replacing the pieces you were unable to transfer. She will be back online shortly."

Maria and Bucky exchanged a look before Maria looked back at JARVIS. "I assume this line is secure."

"Your assumption would be correct," JARVIS said. "Junior was under instructions to access the internet if she was able as soon as she could so we could track your location. This connection has been secure from the second the tablet accessed the internet."

"Mind if I ask a question?" Steve said.

"Not at all, Captain."

"If you had to download Junior's UI, does that mean the quinjet was the main copy of her? Tony didn't have a back up of her anywhere? I don't remember everything, but my memory's not so bad that I don't know that doesn't sound anything like him."

"There are back ups," JARVIS answered. "But I do not have access to them without specific commands from Mister Stark. Mister Stark has many redundant back ups of both Junior and I. But we do not have access to each others' core systems. If one of us is compromised, the other is not. It's a safety measure."

"A good one," Tony's voice interrupted, though his image didn't appear. "Thanks, J. Junior, when you finish putting yourself back together, go back to idle. I got this."

"I'm done!" the UI all but chirped. Tony, really? Weird UI. Good UI, but weird. "Going to idle now."

Both JARVIS's image, and the smaller one of Junior disappeared, replaced by Tony. They could only see from his shoulders up, but he was in his suit, Bucky noticed, which made him worry that Tony was expecting trouble out there.

"Okay, talk to me," Tony said. "JARVIS said there was some sort of fight going on at the school. Did orcs attack you?"

"Nothing so easy," Maria said. "That ghost we mentioned? She lived in the wires, and apparently was not merely a child with poor socialization skills. Maybe she had been in life, but she most certainly was not once she was dead."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "So what, she turned out to be like Alessa?"

"I'm so glad someone else gets that reference," Sharon said. "But yeah. She gave me video of a death threat against Bucky, then attacked us all with the cats. Bruce Hulked out, took out the arc reactor, cut off Kitty from her power source."

Tony turned his head, cupping his hand behind his ear. "I'm sorry, did you call the ghost 'Kitty'?"

"Catherine Sloupe," Maria said. "Kitty was her nickname. She had the ability to walk through walls, and we suspect the electrical fire that damaged the school and resulted in it shutting down was caused by her running straight into the electrical system and shorting everything."

"And I didn't discover this how?"

"Because she fixed up the damage she caused," Steve said. "When she wanted to, anyway."

Tony heaved a dramatic sigh. "And let me guess, she set the place on fire again when you took her on."

"Basically," Bucky said. "The place is trashed and without the arc reactor, there's no power. That's why we left for a hotel."

"And Bruce?"

"Hopefully has found the school and packed his own bag," Maria said. "I had to shoot him out into the woods somewhere. It wasn't a controlled Code Green, we couldn't get him to calm down."

Tony groaned, rubbing his face, then parted his hands to his ears, pulling back skin before he turned and looked up at Sharon. "And why are you wearing bandages around your throat?"

"Kitty tried to hang me with a live wire."

Tony's hands dropped and his arms lifted up into view in time for his head to rest on them. "Okay. Any other injuries? There has to be a nearby urgent care."

"Bucky's arm is toast," Steve said.

Tony looked up and squinted at Bucky. "What'd you do to it? That was a fine piece of machinery."

Bucky lifted his arm out of its sling and flopped his hand a couple times for demonstration. "Kitty decided she didn't like it and shorted it out. There's no damage to the surface, but the computers overloaded, I think."

Tony looked incredibly tired and twice his age as he stared at the dead hand, like that was possibly the last thing he needed. It probably was. "Okay." He took in a deep breath, then released it, going from 'why me?' to 'okay let's do this' as the air blew out. "Okay, so that's gonna require me getting there. I won't have the tools on hand to fix that if you stay at the hotel, but it's gonna take me a bit to get back to the Tower. Can you stay there a couple nights?"

"We have two nights paid for," Maria said.

"Good. As soon as you check out the day after tomorrow, head to the Tower. I'll be waiting. I'm going to take you guys out to New Mexico. I have better stuff to work with out there, and if I'm going to be digging into Bucky's arm, I'm going to need the good stuff."

"What about after that?" Steve asked. He sounded as desperate to stop hiding as Bucky felt. The girls probably were tired of it too, and Bruce, if he found civilization, was probably ready to just go back to the nice and predictable Tower for awhile.

"I don't know, Cap," Tony said. "Honestly, I don't. I have to find Bruce and I'm not even sure if I can fully restore Bucky's arm to its former functional levels. I'll have to take a look at it. If it involves getting in under the biomechtium, I could be in trouble." Then he pointed his finger at them. "And none of you heard me admit to that. I am a flawless engineer and mechanic, that arm will be my play toy by the time I'm done working on it, got it?"

"Please don't play with my arm," Bucky grumbled at him. "It's not a toy."

"I'll have it dancing like Pinocchio without strings," Tony said. "But enough of that. I assume you had to use cash to pay for the rooms since Junior was offline. She's back now, you should have access to that dummy account. Don't use cash unless you have to. I have JARVIS keeping track of where you go with that account. Not to sound like a creepy stalker, but right now, I want to know where you go and why. It was my decision to put you into hiding, I'm not going to abandon you to sink or swim in the wilds."

"You know," Steve said. "Normally I'd be protesting that much surveillance, but right now, I'm kinda glad for it. But Tony?"

"Yeah, Spangles?"

"After we _all_ figure out where to go from here, you take the spy bugs off our shoulders, you got it?"

"Doable," Tony said. "I'm just being paranoid right now, humor me."

"I am," Steve said. "But just for the moment."

"Fair." Tony looked over the four of them. "You all look like you could stand showers and some quality time off your feet. Go on, I'll make sure everything's ready for you at the Tower. And I'll send in a crew to pack up whatever you had to leave at the school, if you want."

Bucky glanced at the others. "We got the important stuff, but yeah, we got more stuff back there that we'd like back. Like my tools, Steve's art stuff, our books. But the important stuff's out."

"Good." Tony waved his hands at them, shooing them off. "Go clean up and rest. Sharon, get to an urgent care clinic, get that burn looked at. Don't fret about insurance, just pay out of pocket. Use the account. Make up whatever you have to for an identity. You're a former spy, you should be good at that. I have to get back to Jerusalem, talk to Pepper."

"Is that why it's going to take you awhile to get back to New York?" Steve asked.

Tony looked reluctant to answer that. "It's going to change a few things in our current plans, yeah. I'll talk to Pepper, then see you guys back at the Tower. I mean it, leave at check out. Ithaca's not that far from NYC, I should see you before dinner."

"We'll be there," Maria assured him.

With a tired goodbye from all five parties present, the line disconnected. The wifi icon on the tablet showed no more internet. A quick attempt to reconnect failed. Damn. Tony might've had it blocked by Junior or JARVIS. Well fine, he'll just wait until they get to New York to check the news.

Really getting tired of the isolation. At least they had the TVs in the rooms, he could turn on a news channel and see what he missed. He'd even take Fox News by this point. Even with their bias, they had to be saying something about Israel.

Israel.

He glanced up at Steve. They should've been out there, not fighting pointlessly with each other at a haunted school that they ended up setting on fire. Bucky desperately wanted to be able to say to Tony when they met up that it was safe to take them out to the field.

Back to the tablet. Bucky sat forward, turning it off. "Okay, we have orders. Someone take Sharon to the nearest urgent care clinic, get her burn treated by a proper doctor."

"What about you?" Steve asked.

Bucky took a second to even figure out what Steve as talking about, then looked at his dead shoulder. "I'm probably already fine," he said, pulling the not-so-cold ice pack out from under his shirt. He set it down, then examined the area. "I think the only reason it's still red is the ice. It doesn't hurt." Then he peered up at Steve. "And what makes you think it'd be smart for me to go get a minor burn treated at the port of an artificial arm when we're trying to _hide?"_

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. "Yeah, you're right. I wasn't thinking, I guess."

Bucky bit down on the urge to snap at him; Steve hadn't really done anything wrong, not really. There may have been a negative reason in his head somewhere for whatever had him 'not thinking', but Steve had already made a big step that day, it was time to settle the reactive animosity down. There was still work to do, but 'anger' should no longer be the default.

"Why don't you take Sharon to get her burn looked at? I'm fine, you don't need to worry," he said instead.

"I could do it," Maria said.

"I know," Bucky said, not uncertain that she was trying to push for some time for he and Steve to talk like they needed. "But if we split up the genders, that means you and I can get our showers in while they're out, then they can shower when they get back, and there won't be conflict over the bathrooms."

Steve's eyebrows raised for a moment in a conceding facial shrug. "Not a bad idea," he said. He looked past Bucky at Sharon. "What do you think? Think you can handle my fussing?"

Poor Sharon.

"I've been putting up with your fussing for months now," she said, and a glance over Bucky's shoulder confirmed the smile he heard in her tone. She took a swallow of her drink before capping it and setting it down on the desk. "Just don't overdo it and I won't be forced to hit you."

Steve held up his hands. "Don't worry, I know better than to incur your wrath." He picked up the stack of card keys for the rooms. "Bucky, which one do we want?"

Once again, Bucky was forced to kick whatever was in his brain that bristled at Steve asking the decision of him. The Soldier had had far too much rein in the last couple weeks. It was time for him to shut his mouth, at least for the moment. This wasn't a life or death plan being worked out, fer fuck's sake.

"I'd say this one," he said. "Puts us between the girls and the rest of the hotel." He looked at Maria. "I know you two are perfectly capable," he said before she could even get started. "Which is why I want to trust our backs to you."

"Now you're just being paranoid," Maria said. "More than truly necessary."

"We said that about the school," Bucky argued. "And besides, how long have we been Avengers? Shit comes through windows all the time."

Maria looked like she was trying to find an argument for that logic that didn't involve 'you're being paranoid' when Sharon spoke up. "I would prefer the window side anyway," she said. "I'm a spy by design, I like having access to the outside window. I know this is all probably silly. Ithaca isn't known for much besides hippies and a big university, but we're still Avengers, and even in hiding, we attract trouble. If we didn't, we'd still be at the school. I think after everything with Kitty, we'd all be happier to be on guard until we get back to the Tower. We can relax there."

Bucky looked up at Steve. "Your girlfriend is a wise woman," he said.

"As true as that is, you're only saying that right now because she agreed with you," Steve said. Then he pulled out two keys from the stack he was holding, and set them down on the table. "There, one for our room, one for the girl's room for Maria. We'll take the other two and see you two later." He looked at Sharon. "Come on, let's get your throat looked at."

Sharon touched the bandages lightly. "I just hope they have a way of covering whatever they put on me so I can shower. I don't want a third application of this stuff."

"We'll ask," Steve said. "There might be something at a pharmacy we can get." He grabbed the keys to the BMW and held his arm out for hers.

She took his arm, smiling, and it was such a wonderful, _normal_ scene, that it relaxed Bucky's tense shoulder muscles. At least something was still good, still the way it should be.

"Someone put our drinks in the fridge? And don't use all the hot water before I can get back, Maria," Sharon said on her way out the door.

Maria shook her head. "It's a hotel," she said to the closed door. "I don't know how she thinks one person can drain an entire hotel's hot water supply."

"She's trying to keep things normal," Bucky said, desperately wishing he could get response from his left arm, if only to tap his finger. The absence of response was unnerving, moving into outright disturbing territory. He was used to not having physical surface sensations, but trying to tell a muscle to do something and nothing happening tied his stomach into knots.

Maria traded her bottle of juice for Sharon's soda on the desk next to Bucky, then grabbed Steve's untouched Coke bottle. "She is. Trying a bit too hard, but she was hung by an electrical wire, I suppose I can't fault her." She held up the bottles of soda. "I can't fault her for leaving me to put away her soda, but Steve has no excuse."

Bucky grinned, an almost laugh making a faint sound, but not quite to even qualify as a proper chuckle. "I think he has good reason," he said, getting up. "We all do." He motioned to the piles of bags. "Want me to get Sharon's bag and take it over for you? I'll even take the soda."

Maria looked at him, then set Steve's Coke back down. "I can handle her soda, I have two hands and right now, you don't. I'll get my bags. And Sharon's bag with her uniform and weapons." She looked at the pile of luggage. "It's amazing how much stuff four people can accumulate and still keep down to two bags each."

"And just remember," he said, stepping over next to her. "There's more back at the school."

She made a noise of disgusted fatigue. "I'm not packing it. Tony can get professionals. I don't have anything of worth over there anymore. All my books can be replaced, same with the movies."

"My tools and my Dresden books, but only because the books were from Peter, and those tools were a custom set," Bucky said. "I think Sharon and Steve would like their Wii U stuff so they don't lose their save file. And Steve's paints and such. But really, even those are replaceable. They can start a new file."

Maria pursed her lips like she was trying to hide how much she wanted to smile. "She could find new ways to make him die in those earlier levels."

"She would, you know she would," Bucky said.

"And love every second of it," Maria agreed, shaking her head and smiling in affectionate exasperation. "We have a weird family, Bucky."

Bucky looked back at the bags. "Yeah, but they're our family. But come on, let's get this stuff taken care of so we can shower." He turned his head slightly, mostly looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "If we have time-"

"Do we have time?"

He scowled. "For once, I wasn't about to get flirty. I was about to ask if you wanted to finish going through those files."

That actually made her turn her head to look at him, her expression changing from sultry to somber, and wait, had that actually been an offer? "The Winter Soldier files?" When he nodded, she looked away, back towards the bed, quiet in thought, then back to him. "Are you sure about that?"

Deciding to answer before testing that offer again, he shrugged. "I can't guarantee things are suddenly okay with Steve, that we may not need your help that requires you knowing what's in there." He blew some hair out of his face. "Besides, like I said, there's some stuff that might help you understand me and my quirks." The hair fell back in his face and he reached up to pull it back in annoyance. "And it might help you work with me better on the field, if you see how I got to where I am. And goddamnit, after Steve is done with his shower, he is cutting my fucking hair."

Smiling, she reached up and tucked the offending bit of hair behind his ear. "Decided to trust him to do that? I could do that instead of looking at those files."

Bucky considered that offer. On one hand, it kept him from having to pull out those files. On the other, it would feel awkward with anyone but Steve with scissors around his neck like that. Steve had his back at the school, surely he could not be a prick with the scissors. He never would've been, to be honest; that mistrust had been unwarranted and came from a place of anger, not any sense of reality.

It was time to try to reestablish that trust.

So he shook his head and answered with a quiet "no." Then he gave her teasing grin. "Know why? Because you wouldn't do it right."

She elbowed him. "I can do a lot of things right." He wasn't going to deny that. Then that expression came back "Come on, there's showering to do."

"Yeah. Shower." He wanted one badly, and he was really ready to take her up on that offer. Fun aside, his busted arm would slow him down and take away valuable time with Maria. Even if that offer really was only for help in the shower, there was no way he was turning that down.

As if reading his thoughts, she put her hand on his dead one. "We have enough time," she said, voice made of silk. "I could help you shower. Make up for your arm not working. Unless you'd rather look through those files that are going to be there after we're done anyway."

He looked at her, returning that flirting with a false protest. "I thought something was said about privacy issues earlier."

She smiled, kissing his flesh arm that she captured in her arms. "We have enough time for a shower," she said. "We could even play good and not let it last long. You're going to take a longer time than I will otherwise."

His thoughts exactly. "Not going to shave your legs?" He still was going to make her work for it. That was half the fun.

"Don't need to," she said. "I showered this morning before going down to breakfast."

"Then you don't need a shower now."

"No, but you do." She ran her hand across his chest, under the sling. "Are you turning it down?"

"No," he answered before his brain tried to remind him of the whole 'Steve and Sharon will be back' thing. They wouldn't be back _that_ fast. There was time to ravish Maria in the shower and get a good back scrub for his trouble. "I'm just surprised it was offered."

"Bucky, we were both in a life and death situation not that long ago. If you don't let me get us off in the shower while we have a chance, I'm going to hit you."

"Right, unpacking later, sex in the shower now. I see no problem with this plan."

Maria left contact with him long enough to grab his and her regular bags, leaving the uniform bags behind, then grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him to her, capturing his lips hard enough that he thought she might bite.

He wouldn't protest.

Clothing was stripped and tossed around the bathroom once the door was shut. She pushed him back against it, pressing tightly against him, leaving frantic nips and bites along his jaw, before they stumbled back towards the shower. They managed to get into the tub without killing each other.

She made a point of pausing and using her tongue to tease him while she crouched down to turn on the water, left on too hot to normally be comfortable, but after her tongue and the way she raked her nails over his hips, he didn't notice the water temperature.

He hauled her up to her feet and pressed her back against the shower wall, kissing her to steal her breath, matching heartbeat for heartbeat. Shower sex could be one of the best kinds, and the fact that Steve and Sharon might get back sooner than they thought and there'd be no secret that Maria had been in there with him heightened the arousal. It just meant he didn't have time to play, that the urgency between them demanded satisfaction then and now.

Around them, the room steamed over.


	25. If I'm Alive And Well

Maria insisted on braiding his hair. He didn't know if it was the remnants of the strange bonding rituals of preteen girls at sleepovers, or if she was making light of how disgustingly long his hair had gotten.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, for the sixth time since she'd started combing his wet hair out.

She peeked around his dead left shoulder, her hair comb in her mouth. "'cause i's 'un," she replied, or tried to.

He rolled his eyes. "What have I told you about talking with your mouth full?"

She grabbed the comb out of her mouth, holding the twisted locks up in one hand. "That you fear for your safety when I do," she said. "And to answer your question, because it's long enough that a braid almost makes more sense than a ponytail and you have to get it out of your face somehow."

"That's depressing," he heaving a melodramatic sigh.

She made a noncommittal noise rather than offer any comments to pacify his ego, and the tug-of-war taking place on his scalp resumed. He could only assume that she had the comb in her mouth again.

It didn't take long- his hair hadn't gotten _that_ out of control -but it felt weird. After she leaned over to set the comb on the counter, she wrapped her arms around his waist, slipping under his arms. "There," she said. "Out of your face?"

"We'll see how it looks when my hair's dry," he said, looking at her reflection.

She rested her chin on his shoulder. "And by then, it'll be curly from the braid."

Someone save him from the women in his life. He rolled his eyes and gave her an aggravated look. "Gee, that'll be great. I can't possibly imagine how many ways Steve won't make fun of me for that."

"He's cutting your hair after this anyway," Maria said, then patted his ass. "Come on, get dressed before they get back."

He gave her an indignant look, but started dressing, realizing how long it might take Steve and Sharon to get back. That 'quickie in the shower' hadn't been quick at all, and he wasn't sure how much time had passed.

Getting on his t-shirt wasn't terribly difficult, but his pants, as they had that morning, proved an exercise in frustration.

He nearly slipped out of them when Maria grabbed hold of his jeans.

"Need help?" she asked, already standing and pulling them up.

"No," he grumbled. "I'm not helpless."

"I know that." The jeans went over his hips. "You don't have to get snippy."

He moved his functional fingers to take the button from her hands. "I know, I'm sorry," he said.

Maria batted him away, working the button herself. She slid her hand down to catch the zipper, deliberately being a slow tease.

He sucked in a breath, grabbing her hand. "Do that again and I'm bending you over the counter and doing horrible things to you on purpose."

In the mirror, he saw her grin, pressed up against his back in just her shirt and undergarments as she nuzzled the back of his neck, and it was suddenly a very tempting prospect. "If we had more time, I'd ask if that was a promise."

It was a serious debate. "Keep it up and-"

The decision was made for them when he heard the hotel door lock click open, and the sound of footsteps.

So much for debate.

"Later," she said quietly, kissing the back of his neck, then stepped back to finish dressing.

He zipped his pants and dumped the wet towels into the corner so they'd be out of Steve's way.

"Bucky?"

"Just a second!" he called back. He kissed Maria's cheek. "Don't forget to brush your hair. It's a mess."

The look she gave him was wicked. "What, and surprise Steve by coming out after you?"

He flashed her a bratty grin in return. "He deserves it." Then he frowned, listening, hearing sounds of Sharon's voice. "Besides, he invited in his girlfriend to intrude on my privacy. He definitely deserves it."

"Come out dressed, Sharon's with me," Steve replied through the door.

"Thanks for the warning," he said, slipping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. "Lucky for you, I was already dressed."

"I would've sent her out if-" Steve paused, looking at him. Studying him. Staring. Then at the closed door behind him. Then back at Bucky. "Maria's in there, isn't she?"

Bucky gave him a bland smile. "She helped."

"Yeah, I'll just bet," Steve said, shaking his head and walking away. "Must've been some helping, if you're just now finishing up in there." He dug into the minifridge wedged between the TV stand and the desk. "Sharon, want your drink?"

Bucky looked at Sharon. She still had bandages around her neck, and they didn't really look any different except the color of the adhesive tape holding the gauze down. "Were they able to help?" Bucky asked.

"Please?" she said, setting her purse down on the desk and holding her hand out for her soda. Once it was safely in her grip, she turned to face Bucky. "They couldn't really do anything more than we had. They gave me a prescription antibiotic cream and instructions to apply a cool wet washcloth to the site regularly for fifteen minutes or so, and then reapply the cream. I have to watch for blisters causing seepage. They didn't say it would hurt to leave it uncovered when I'm in a safe place to let it air out, but they didn't say it'd do any good, either." She shrugged. "Basically, not a lot of help."

Behind him, the bathroom door opened, and Bucky stepped out of the way, giving Maria room to get out. She had her wet hair clipped up off her neck. Bucky knew how sensitive that spot was to light touches and oh, how he was tempted to brush his fingers there just to make her jump.

Behave.

He did it anyway, reaching up casually and ghosting his fingers over the back of her neck briefly before stepping out of hitting range to get his own drink.

Bad's a behavior. It counts.

As he'd hoped, she jumped with a squawk, narrowly missing hitting his arm as he quickly ducked out of her reach.

"You got lucky that time, Barnes," she growled at him. Then she looked at Sharon. "Did they give you a painkiller of any sort?"

"No," Sharon said, catching herself just as she started to shake her head. That probably wouldn't feel too good on that burn. "Just told to keep up with Advil and if it's bad, use one of my Percocet."

Bucky pulled his drink out of the fridge, but didn't make any move to figure out how to open it one-handed, watching Maria. She seemed to be considering something, and that meant an idea was forming. An idea he might have part in.

"Steve, grab one of those plastic bags for the ice bin and come with me, please?" Maria said. "And grab Sharon's bags for her."

"I can carry my own bags," Sharon protested.

"I know," Maria said. "But you were choked by a live wire and ended up with a second degree burn because of it. You are in more pain than you are letting on, so I'm going to help you clean up. Steve?"

Steve had already moved to grab a plastic bag, not questioning when the women gave orders, because all else being equal, he was a smart man. "Yeah?"

"While I'm helping Sharon, I need you to cut that plastic into a long strip wide and long enough to be taped with medical tape over Sharon's dressings. There's no way in the world to keep from dampening them a little, but that'll reduce how much water gets to her wound when we wash her hair. I'll change her dressings after she's dried off and dressed. At which point you will be back here, because as soon as you're done prepping the plastic and her dressings for me, you're coming back here for a shower. You stink of smoke as much as the rest of us have since leaving the school."

Then she glanced at Bucky with one corner of her lips pulled up into dry amusement. "And I'm sure Bucky would appreciate it if you chopped that jungle off his head. He wasn't happy about the braid."

Sharon looked like she was grateful for the help, but a bit too prideful to accept it without at least a token protest. "This isn't necessary, Maria, I can bathe on my own."

Maria gave her a stern look. "I'm sure you could, but it'll be easier with help. I outrank you, Sharon. I have seniority over you in the Avengers."

Sharon looked to Steve for help, who was not going to give any. "Don't look at me," he said. "I'm not getting in the middle of this."

Bucky bit back on the urge to tell Steve to say something kinder to his own damn girlfriend who was _injured,_ but Steve was tired, Sharon was tired, they were all tired. At least Bucky and Maria had a chance to shower, however little scrubbing was done until the last minute.

He also knew that Steve was trying to put Sharon at ease with some light humor, so he let it go. He really was itching to assume the worst of Steve, and that needed to stop if they were to get anywhere.

"Sharon," Bucky said, pulling her attention to him. "When Maria starts giving orders, we listen, because she's usually seeing something we're not. You know she doesn't do it often. Just listen to her on this. Humor all of us, we're worried about you. You took a helluva hit."

"You and Steve have taken worse."

"And we've been genetically engineered to," Bucky said. "You're good, you're damn good, but you're still a normal human who just got hung by a live wire. You're lucky to be alive. Let us fuss a bit. Maria knows what she's doing, go along with it and make your family happy." Then he shot Steve a dirty look. "And while you're at it, humor him, too. His shitty attempt at lightening the mood aside, he's probably the most worried of all of us. So take care of yourself."

So much for letting it go.

Steve took in a calming breath, returning Bucky's dirty look for a fraction of a second, before looking back at Sharon. "If you still feel like this later, I'll stay with you tonight," he said. "I'll throw Advil at you and make you rest."

Good save, Steve.

Sharon held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, you win. But you don't need to stay with me tonight." She glanced just as pointedly at Bucky as she had at the damaged recorder that morning before all hell broke loose.

Steve looked back at Bucky, who made himself shrug. He didn't really know which way to stand on that issue; on one hand, he and Steve needed the time. On the other, Sharon needed Steve, too. So he decided to remain a neutral party.

Steve looked at Sharon. "I see I'm going to lose this one, with that look. All right, let's get you and your things over to your room." He grabbed Sharon's bags while Maria picked up her own suitcase and duffel bag with her uniform and weapons. "Lemme get the door."

Sharon grabbed the keycards for the girls' room. "I'm closer, and I'm not carrying anything. I'm not so bad off that I can't handle a couple doors."

"Ladies first, then."

"Keep that up, Sharon," Maria said, following Sharon. "You'll have him trained in no time."

Whatever Sharon had to say to that was lost to Bucky's ears as she left the room.

Bucky watched them leave, then turned on the TV, intent on finding the news channels. There wasn't much choice, Fox or CNN or MSNBC, but he'd take almost anything at that moment.

Fox News was busy bitching about the election season and CNN seemed to have its attention split between election coverage and Israel. Bucky decided to check MSNBC to see if they had anything more focused on Israel, but the election was everywhere, it seemed.

Which, while good, was not what Bucky was looking for. So he settled in to watch MSNBC, watching the news flash headlines scroll by at the bottom of the screen while the talking heads went over the news.

Even with the scrolling headlines along the bottom of the screen giving half-assed updates to the situation in Israel- which included Iran, as Tony had said -the election still dominated the talk.

While he really would've rather'd known the status of the Avengers in the Middle East, he surrendered himself to learning about the election. Last he'd seen- over a month ago -one of the GOP candidates had conceded, but there were still two in the running; a GOP strong man of color, retired Army Colonel Dean Bishop, and a former libertarian Senator, Jordan Hinn, who had been riding heavily on 'religious freedom' to hide his indifference to some of the bigger hot button issues the right rode on.

The Democrat party had been neck and neck between the only two candidates, a House Representative named Joyce Water and Senator Max Bartlett that had, in some of the speeches Bucky had listened to, reminded him a bit of President Ellis. For that reason alone, he'd been hoping for that candidate to win, because anyone else would be an unknown in how the Avengers would have to interact with them. If Bartlett turned out to work similarly to Ellis, the American government and the Avengers might continue to get along.

The delegates had all already been counted and assigned by the time Bucky and the others left for Palestine, and apparently, both sides had too close of a count to declare a clear nominee. And since Palestine and Israel and the Avengers' hand in that had happened after those months, it looked like everything had to rely on the conventions later in July.

"So what does the news say?" Steve asked, Bucky already focused back on the TV after diverting his attention away for a second at the click of the lock.

"The election, mostly," he said. "Turns out we just became the most important issues. After all the votes were counted, of course."

Steve stopped and looked at the TV. "So we're the big platform issues now?"

"Yup. Go shower, you can catch up when you're done."

Election news dominated the airwaves- Bucky even checked the other two news stations. But all that he could find was about the elections. The only mention of Israel and Iran and the Avengers (with exclusive shout outs to Bucky and Bruce personally) was in context of how that'd affect who would get sent to the White House that November.

Steve's shower didn't take long; in fact, his insistence on drying his hair with a dryer so he could put that silly crap in it to make it stick up took longer. He emerged before Maria returned, leaving the two of them alone, without supervision.

Bucky looked up at him. "So."

"So?"

"We behaved earlier. No more need for a referee?"

Steve went quiet, looking off in the direction of the TV, but his eyes didn't look like he was actually focused on it. Then he looked back at Bucky. "It was pink, not red." Then he grinned. "But thanks for the effort."

"I will throw this remote at your head, Rogers."

Steve chuckled, shooing Bucky over to the other side of the bed so he could sit down next to him. "I think we'll be okay," he said. "We got time."

"Last chance to back out and stay with Sharon tonight."

Steve gave him a sidelong look. "How much of that question is because you want more time with Maria that doesn't involve hiding in the shower?"

Bucky shook his head. "None of it. I asked for you. I already said I figured on gendered pairs tonight."

"Then you're comfortable with that?"

Bucky shrugged. "Why not? Maybe we can sleep without both of us wanting to smother each other with our pillows."

Steve drew his knees up, the position that was more normal for him than cross-legged, as he'd been doing when they first got home from Palestine. His own memories and likes and dislikes had come back, so he was no longer mimicking Bucky for lack of any other way to think.

Good.

"I think we'll be fine," he said. "Unless Sharon needs me tonight."

Bucky gave him a flat look to hide the smirk he wanted to give instead. "You know, tonight's probably out with how she's feeling, but if you stay with her tom-"

"Don't even, Bucky," Steve said, a warning rattle that lacked the venom that it might've had not even a few days ago. "We will get there when we get there, and in the middle of a stressful time is not the time for that."

"Says you," Bucky said, then turned up the TV. "Check it out, they're talking about us. And get the scissors, you're cutting my hair before I start using this braid as a deadly weapon."

Steve shook his head, getting up. "Come on, into the bathroom. That floor's better for this anyway."

While Steve dug into his bag for the scissors, Bucky turned the TV up a bit more to be heard from the bathroom, then headed in and planted himself on the toilet, lid down and facing the wall.

While the news went on and on over stuff Bucky had already heard, Steve joined him in the bathroom. He'd been hoping he'd hear something new, but it was just a constant looping of the same stuff. But Steve hadn't heard any of it, so Bucky kept quiet.

The braid was undone with only a little laughter that earned a little dirty look up at the offender before both settled into their jobs, Bucky holding still, and Steve snipping away.

"Colonel Bishop looks at the Avengers as a special force," a talking head on the TV said. "And the only one that should hunt down Hydra, with little government interference. He referred back to Captain America's position in history and he certainly has the patriots fired up. He has implied, but not stated explicitly, that he thinks the Avengers should only work for America. Whether he's lost or gained any support with that statement will have to be seen in the GOP convention later this month."

Steve sighed, pausing briefly in his cutting. "I wish politicians would quit using my name to support their platform. Leave Captain America out of politics, please."

"They don't care, Steve," Bucky said. "Captain America is the national treasure you want on your side."

There was another sigh, this one more frustrated than the last, but at least he'd gone back to work. There wasn't much left to cut. "I know, and one of these days I should just start asking Tony to put me on TV so I can yell at them."

"Bad PR for yourself," Bucky argued. "And for the rest of us."

Steve went silent a minute, like he didn't like his idea being shot down, but he didn't argue and went back to work. "What about the last guy?"

"Hinn? Who you just talked over?" Bucky asked. "He's playing on the conservatives' dislike of big government and thinks we should be left to do whatever we have to to take care of Hydra, short of dropping bombs on America."

"Still not voting for him."

Bucky heard the sound of the scissors being set on the counter, and felt along his shoulder, where his hair blessedly ended.

"How's that?"

"My head feels like you just cut fifty pounds from it."

"Now you're just be dramatic. You look better, though."

Bucky looked at him. "Thanks." Then he motioned out the door, in the TV's direction. "Did you know that I'm an issue they're fighting over?" He got up and started gathering up the miles of hair left on the floor to dump into the trash.

While Bucky did that, Steve grabbed the scissors and headed into the room to see the TV again. "Did I miss that while I was in the shower?"

"Yup." Bucky finished throwing the hair away and rinsing what stuck to his hand off, then joined Steve in the room and gave the TV a grumpy look. He hit the mute button on the remote. It wasn't telling him anything he wanted to hear; the election was big news, but his more immediate concern was Israel and Iran and how quickly he and the others could get out there to help.

"Bartlett's the only one that likes me. They're all quick to say 'oh, American hero, poor POW, we failed him,' but as soon as they can, they all say that I should be off the field so I'm not a potential loose cannon in case Hydra gets too close to me. Like they have some sort of magical programming words in my head that's going to turn me on a dime."

"Even both GOP candidates?"

Bucky shrugged his one good shoulder, lifting his busted hand in his other, flopping it back and forth in a disturbing parody of 'so-so'.

"Don't do that."

"It's gotta do me _some_ good," Bucky said. "But no, Hinn doesn't seem to like me at all. He all but called me a traitor."

"Not voting for him," Steve said with a noise of disgust. "He can't appeal to me and leave my best friend swinging from a rope like that."

Bucky stared at him. "Steve. That is exactly what you've been doing the last few weeks."

Steve closed his eyes, turning red faced. "And I'm sorry for that. We had a talk last night, didn't we?"

"One of many we need," Bucky said. "But all right, you're right, you said sorry."

Before the discussion could turn into an argument, there was a knock at the door. "Are the girls welcome in?" Maria's voice asked from the other side.

"I'll get it," Steve said, getting up to go unlock the door. Nobody had thought to lend the girls one of the keys for Steve and Bucky's room to rejoin them after Sharon's bath.

Sharon, if anything, looked worse for the wear than before her bath. "Sharon, you okay?" Bucky asked, sitting up.

Sharon nodded slowly. "The air was just cold after a hot bath. The AC's on in there."

Bucky slid down off the end of the bed. "Here, take this spot. You can hide under the covers. It's too hot for us to not have the AC on, but you can have blankets."

"You're an angel, Bucky," she said, stepping past Steve, then paused and looked at him. "Were you sitting on the bed?"

"I was," Steve said. "I'll just sit by you, as long as you don't mind if I skip hiding under the blankets."

She smiled and reached up to kiss his cheek. "You're an angel, too. You're all angels and I think I'm going to go get under the covers before I start calling the TV an angel."

Bucky walked over to Maria while Steve helped Sharon get settled. He lowered his voice. "How is she, really?"

"In some pain, but mostly shaky," Maria answered, just as quiet. "Burns are bad enough, but electrical burns- well, to use a potentially too appropriate word, they zap your energy and cause you to hurt all over." She looked at him. "And yes, that shot I took in the shower probably was Kitty. And yes, I felt pretty awful after it, and yes, some sleep will probably help her feel better, like it did for me. She got hit harder than I did, though, so she might be down a few hours more than I was."

Bucky looked back over at Steve and Sharon. "Think we should just swap luggage around and let them have this room? It'd be easier on Sharon."

"We'll discuss that later. For now, just let Sharon relax so she can recover."

"You got it, pretty lady."

While Maria took the chair that nice-ish hotels tended to have but where never comfortable, Bucky took the desk chair, kicking his feet up and putting his tablet in his lap to argue with Junior over internet connection. It left the bed for the two lovebirds in a way that wouldn't- or at least shouldn't -make anyone feel guilty over hogging the bed.

Sharon, I'm looking at you. Stay under those covers.

Steve relaxed back against his pillows, propped up at the headboard. Sharon snuggled against him, covers up to her shoulders. He let her grab his arm to hold like a stuffed animal. "You wanna watch something other than the news?"

Sharon peeked out over the covers enough to look at the TV. "What's going on in the news?"

"Election coverage, mostly," Bucky said, trying to get internet connection. "Bartlett and Waters still are in the race on the Democrat side, and Bishop and Hinn left the other two GOP in the dust. Right now, they're all debating over us and Israel. Hinn is the only one that likes Bruce, but Bartlett's the only one that likes me. They all seem to like the team to a degree or another, but Bartlett and Hinn seem to be the only ones that wants us to remain free agents. Waters doesn't want us acting without her permission, and Bishop practically said he wanted us to be his personal special forces."

"Is that the rundown?"

"Pretty much. They're not talking about what our teammates are doing in Israel and Iran as much as I'd like. It's all about the political repercussions on the election."

"Meh." Sharon sat up a bit to look for the remote. "Weather Channel's better. When we get internet again, I'll catch up more."

Steve grabbed the remote and handed it to her; she flipped through channels until she found the Weather Channel- required watching in a hotel room -before she settled back down, using Steve's chest as a pillow so she could watch the TV without emerging from the covers.

Other than the occasional trip to the vending machines- always by Maria, who flat out refused to let Sharon get up and told Steve to stay put as her pillow, and Bucky needed to hide his arm until they were leaving so everyone shut up and listen to her -and a run down to the restaurant for a take out lunch, they pretty much all sat back and were bored senseless.

Sharon fell asleep at one point, and Steve took advantage of the situation to start working on a sketch. Maria seemed like she'd turned into a statue, watching the TV and occasionally marking time. Steve gave her the remote after Sharon fell asleep, making Maria move from that stillness and let her find something to entertain herself with.

Bucky spent most of that time arguing with Junior, via text so he didn't disturb anyone, and she said no to his requests to be allowed on the internet so many times, she finally hit him with the original 'NOPE' meme.

Fine, be that way.

At least his tablet had books, books he was already sick of, but they were better than watching TV all day.

Sharon woke up for dinner, emerging from the blankets but not off the bed while she ate, then laid back down, facing away from Steve and ignoring the TV.

Bucky watched her a bit. "Steve, I think it might be best if you and I switch rooms with the girls. She's already comfortable and under the covers."

Steve looked at Sharon. "I think you're right." He nudged Sharon's shoulder lightly, until she gave a soft 'hm?" "Sharon, we're switching rooms. Bucky and I are taking our luggage next door and bringing yours and Maria's back."

Sharon sat up a bit, forced by the pull on her burn to sit properly rather than just look over her shoulder at them. "No, it's okay, I can get up and help. Is it time to go to bed?"

"No," Steve said, "but you're already comfortable here."

"Go back to sleep, Sharon," Maria said. "I'll come to bed when I'm tired." She muted the TV and turned on the captioning. "We'll let the boys go play with their toys or something."

"I'll 'or something' you," Bucky muttered, gathering up his things off the desk and shoving them back into his suitcase.

"You did earlier," Maria said. "I'm 'or something'd out for awhile."

"I could-"

"Go to bed, dear, before you say something stupid."

"Yes, ma'am."

Steve had wisely stayed out of that exchange, but didn't seem to resist the urge to laugh at Bucky's expense once they were out the door.

"Shut up, Steve."

Steve unlocked the door to their room and flicked the lights on. "What? You two have good interactions. Laughing's part of that."

Bucky's indignation fell flat at that. "You and Sharon do too," he said. He dropped his luggage by the desk. "We did at one time, too."

Steve put his luggage down by the bathroom, pausing and studying Bucky. "We can get that back."

Bucky didn't answer, digging into his suitcase. "Go take the girls' stuff over to them. This conversation can wait."

There was no arguments to that to be heard, Steve merely gathering up the two uniform bags on one arm and two suitcases in his free hands, and heading out.

As soon as the door lock clicked, Bucky started pushing around clothes and toiletries until he found the notebooks he'd hastily tossed in and buried after Steve had rescued them from the lounge for him at the school. He sorted through them, pulling out the two oldest and putting the other three back.

He dropped those on the closest nightstand. Those were for Steve. It might leave Bucky sleeping on his metal arm, taking the other side if Steve decided not to move the notebooks, but since it was useless for pulling back blankets when he had to get up, he may as well deal with it.

He was already struggling into his lounge pants when Steve came back. "If you're about to offer help, don't," he said.

Steve held up his hands in defense. "Okay, I won't offer." He looked at the nightstand. "Already picked your side?"

"Nope," Bucky said, grabbing his t-shirt off the bed, pants successfully pulled on.

"No?"

"No."

Steve crossed his arms, leaning against the wall where the entry way opened up to the room itself. "No."

Bucky put his dead arm through its sleeve, then pulled on the rest of his shirt. "You heard me. Those are for you."

With a slight frown, just a tiny drop of his eyebrows, Steve walked over to the nightstand and picked up the notebooks. "Bucky, you know I can't read your science notes."

"Those aren't science notes," Bucky said, returning to his suitcase to pull out his medicine. "Those are for reading when you can't sleep, instead of stealing my Ativan, and yes, I know you do, and I'm telling Bruce on you."

The sounds of the notebooks getting set back down with a light smack was Steve's guilty response to that.

Bucky stood and pointed at Steve sternly with his bottle. "I mean it. I need this shit right now, and Bruce isn't around right now to renew my prescription."

While he walked into the bathroom to grab a glass of water to down his pill with, Steve half followed as far as to get to his bag. "I didn't know you really needed that regularly."

Bucky didn't answer until his pill was swallowed and he'd emerged from the bathroom. He watched Steve pull out his night clothes before walking past him. "I didn't before Palestine. Now it just keeps off the nightmares." He looked back at Steve. "And I'm sure that's why you stole some of this. But get your own, if you need it."

"I don't-" Steve started to say, but the protest died before it could finish.

Bucky didn't sit down on the bed yet, not yet. If Steve picked the side wit the notebooks, it'd put Bucky's back to Steve and he wanted to see Steve's excuse as much as hear it. Steve's eyes were too expressive; any lie he might try to spit out if he were inclined wouldn't show on his face.

"It was just the once," Steve said, looking guilty. "And I wasn't sure what kind of dosage I'd need. I'm sorry."

Bucky set his pill bottle down on his nightstand. "Why didn't you get your Ritalin-C? That usually knocks you out. You didn't have to get into my medicines."

"It was in Bruce's office," Steve said, sitting down on the bed. Bucky decided to join him, fighting around his dead arm to get under the covers and sit comfortably, ready to just roll over when their conversation started to veer off into Not Good Land. "I didn't want to wake anyone going down to get it." Then he shrugged. "And it keeps you asleep, I thought it might help me. If it did, I could talk to Bruce, get my own, as long as things are still shaky and we're not in the same room anymore."

That was quite possibly the lamest excuse Bucky had heard Steve give, even though it was a truthful one, but Steve also still had the fear Hydra had chemically stuck into him lurking in his brain, so his thought processes probably weren't any better than Bucky's inclination to get angry at the drop of a hat. Steve was afraid and Bucky was afraid and it was all a big mess.

Well, that was over. Or going to be. They were on the path to that, they could keep going.

Bucky put his good hand on Steve's shoulder. "You make no sense sometimes, Steve. But all right. Did it at least work?"

"Pretty sure," Steve said. "I think I was aware of you coming back into the room, but I might've been dreaming."

That sounded suspiciously like a lie, but not enough for Bucky to not give him the benefit of the doubt. Steve may have been more aware of Bucky's presence that morning the missing medicine was discovered than he was letting on, but certainty of reality at that level of sleep could be fuzzy. Bucky decided he was just assuming the worst again.

"You were still asleep when I came in," Bucky said. Then he motioned to the notebooks. "But stay out of my drugs. If you can't sleep tonight, read those instead."

Steve reached for one, looking at its faded and beat up condition. "What is it?"

"Late night reading material," Bucky said. "I'm going to sleep, though, so you do whatever. Don't worry about the light, it won't keep me up."

Reaching across himself to turn out his light and then settling down with that completely dead arm was difficult, and elicited no fewer than five obscene words, but he finally got himself settled. How he was gonna push himself up off the bed in the morning was beyond him, but at least he'd be able to get the blankets out of the way to do it.

He didn't know how he was gonna handle another whole day of dealing with that thing until Tony could get them to New Mexico and fix it. He'd go nuts.

Steve's light was still on when he fell asleep.

The lights were all off when he woke, though at first he wasn't sure if he was awake or dreaming. A warm face pressed against his cheek, breath a whisper that said "trust your little brother, yeah?"

Oh. Steve.

He cracked open an eye, deciding it was safe to assume he was awake. "If you kiss me, you're sleeping with the girls," he mumbled.

Steve pulled back, and set something down on Bucky's nightstand. "You're dreaming, Bucky. Go back to sleep."

Maybe he was. He let himself relax and closed his eyes again, waiting until he felt Steve get back into bed and move around until he was comfortable again, then- after a silent argument with his dead arm -reached over and grabbed the sketchbook that Steve had left on his nightstand.

Not a dream.

It was hard to make out the picture that the book was opened to in the dark, but after a few seconds of making his vision adjust to the lack of good light, he was able to make out smooth lines that indicated that Steve had spent a good deal of time and care on it. Time and care on a picture of the Winter Soldier and Captain America, both in full uniform, mission ready and plan agreed upon with a simple gesture of fists tapped together.

Partners.

Bucky reached back and smacked Steve lightly with the sketchbook. "Punk." He put the book back down on his nightstand.

Steve returned the hit with one of Bucky's notebooks. "Jerk."

With a yawn and a sleepy smile, Bucky closed his eyes again. "Go to sleep, Steve. Your partner has your back tonight."

"Wouldn't trust anyone else there."


End file.
